small victories

I talked to Scooter last night. I talk to her every night. She had a boring day at home. No school (due to snow), no friend (her neighbor friend was at another person's house), no nothing. So she read a book that's completely inappropriate for her age and waited for her friend to come home. She had mentioned on Monday that she hadn't gone to school (even though school was in session all day and the roads were not reported to be treacherous) because it was "too bad" out to go to school. So this was her second day of boredom without her neighbor friend to entertain her.

Naturally, since I worked from home for half the day, I thought I'd give her a call on my way home and break up some of the monotony for her. Little did I realize that this would set off her father, who wasn't even there at the time. Apparently, it is not OK for me to ask my daughter about her day. It's not OK to show an interest in what she's reading or what she does or who she hangs out with. It's not OK for me to know who is watching her during the day. I guess I didn't get that memo. I figured, as her mother, it was my right to know these things. And as her mother, it was not only my right, but my duty to show an interest in her life.

But whatever. After the hissy fit, he did finally tell me (after I asked four or five times) what orthodontist he took her to a month ago.  Again. My right as a mother to know that.