By Jessica Delaney
Sep. 23, 2023
This summer, my husband and I started playfully calling our 9-year-old daughter “The Sloth.” While it may sound harsh, it accurately reflects her current demeanor. Our younger daughter has never been particularly athletic; even as a kindergartner, she preferred coloring books to hopscotch and watching cartoons instead of playing kick-the-can. She’s always been more of an indoorsy type, avoiding dirt and sweat and wilting in the midday sun like a delicate flower.
Her aversion to outdoor activities has intensified this summer. Not only does she want to spend every waking moment immersed in Minecraft and comic books, but she also becomes quite vocal and resistant whenever we suggest alternative activities.
“Yuck. It’s too hot for the trampoline.”
“I really dislike hiking. There are just too many bugs.”
“The pool is always packed. I’m not going.”
In previous summers, we could coax her into enjoying outdoor fun, and after some gentle persuasion, she would eventually agree, resulting in enjoyable family moments. But now, we have “The Sloth” on our hands. My husband’s response to this predicament was to enroll her in biweekly tennis lessons—private sessions that come with a hefty price tag, which I, as the stay-at-home parent, typically take her to.
Initially, it wasn’t too challenging. She would sigh and reluctantly close her laptop, dragging her feet to get dressed. However, by midsummer, the eye rolls began. Soon, audible groans accompanied her stomping upstairs, slamming drawers as she searched for her tennis shorts. The drive to the lessons became a quiet affair, but miraculously, by the time we reached the tennis courts, she would pull herself together.
“She’s such a sweet and compliant student,” her instructor reassured me. “She always follows my instructions without any fuss.”
I couldn’t help but think, “Lady, you have no idea what it takes to get her here. Compliant? Not with me!” The truth is, my daughter is agreeable—just not with her parents.
Last week, I handed her a hairbrush and told her it was time to get ready for tennis. She scowled, snatched the brush from my hand, and stormed upstairs. Suddenly, she halted, turned around, and hurled the hairbrush down the staircase in a fit of rage. It shattered on the hardwood floor with a loud crash, startling the dog, the cat, and her sister.
“What on earth?” I exclaimed, my anger bubbling over.
There she stood, fists clenched but eyes wide with tears, as if she couldn’t believe what just happened.
“It was an accident,” she stammered.
“No, it was not! I saw you do that! You threw it on purpose!”
She shook her head, now genuinely crying. “I swear it was an accident! I didn’t mean to… I don’t know why I did that…”
“Get dressed and get in the car,” I said firmly. “We’re running late.”
The car ride was silent, but my mind was racing with thoughts: This child is supposed to be a pacifist, the one who avoids conflict and disagreements. She’s the sensitive one, the gentle spirit who adores cat videos on YouTube. So who is this angry child throwing things?
While she practiced her backhand and lobbed tennis balls, I called my husband in a panic. “What’s happening to her?” I asked, pacing the parking lot. “She’s never acted like this before. It’s like she was out of control with rage.” He listened and reassured me that we would discuss it later.
“She did great today,” her tennis teacher remarked, handing me her racquet.
In the car, she nervously bounced the racquet on her knees, staring out the window. Later, as I brought her a fresh towel after her shower, I entered the bathroom as usual, saying, “Here’s a warm towel. Please don’t toss it on the floor when you’re done, okay?” I caught a glimpse of her quickly folding her arms and turning away.
This is my 9-year-old daughter. I should have learned by now, especially since I have an older daughter who has already gone through these emotional upheavals. I’ve lived this twice—first with myself and then with my older child. Yet, I always seem to forget how early these changes come for girls in our family. My eldest got her period in fifth grade, leaving me shocked and unprepared. I had armed her with age-appropriate books like The Care and Keeping of You, but she didn’t want to discuss it. My sister experienced her first period in fourth grade and thought she had made a big mistake. Our mother hadn’t prepared her, believing the time was still far off.
How can I prepare my 9-year-old for such confusing and adult experiences when she’s still learning about writing paragraphs and long division? I’m at a loss.
I whisper into the phone to my husband, “Puberty is coming. Brace yourself.”
Summary
In this reflective piece, the author shares the challenges of parenting a 9-year-old daughter who is going through a turbulent phase of temperament and emotions, likening her to a sloth due to her resistance to outdoor activities. The mother struggles to understand her daughter’s sudden outbursts and anger, realizing that she must prepare for the onset of puberty and the emotional changes that come with it. The narrative highlights the complexities of parenting and the need for open communication during such transformative years.