So I have two children in junior high school. When children leave elementary school and enter junior high, they warp into a human persuasion no longer requiring outerwear. Doesn't matter if it's 3 degrees below zero (like it was in Chicago one day last week) or if wind chills dip to 21 degrees below zero (like it is in Chicago this weekend). Your 7th and 8th graders don't need pants. Shorts will do just fine. They don't need warm jackets. Hoodies will do the trick. They don't need hats to cover their ears. I mean -- they might wear one if it's the cool Blackhawks hat with the pom pom or the Northwestern hat they got from their cool, older cousin. But if these accessories are missing in action on a random arctic cold morning as they are running late for school- it doesn't matter! They don't actually need to wear them, sillies.
The nerve endings of elementary school aged children actually mutate on the last day of 6th grade; and, their skin no longer feels the elements of cold and wind. This is proven fact. Just peak out from under your down coat hood and over your winter scarf that is wrapped thrice around your face at any middle school bus stop on any given freezing-cold morning. Facts are facts. But even though these are the cold, hard facts, moms like me lose all sense of reason as they watch their offspring step into 0 degree weather donning an Under Armour sweatshirt and their school basketball shorts. The urge to protect our children hits us strong at these moments. We want to grab the wool blanket off the guest bedroom chair and cover them in it, holding it tight around them until the bus arrives. Somehow we know we won't be able to pull this off, so we dive head-on into a futile spat.
"Put the coat on."
"No."
"Put it ON."
"I'm not cold."
"Put the coat on or I'll take your phone away for life!"
"Mom! I'm not cold! Leave me alone, Mom!"
You stand there in the doorway of your home freezing your tush off even though you just opened the door 5 seconds ago, watching your child walk down the pathway silently envisioning them miles away from home with frost bite on every extremity, icicles hanging from their nostrils with a frozen-solid tear stuck to their frosty, numb cheek mouthing "Momma" but no one will hear it because their vocal chords are frozen solid. As they walk towards their bus stop with their hoodie, shorts and no-hat, you decide that- bar none- you are the worst mother that ever lived.
What options do you really have?
1. Take the phone. I mean, we know deep down that this really is the punishment of all punishments. Take the phone already. Will they hate you? Sure! Will they display the worst hissy fit of their life? Yes, of course! But they will wear the coat and will go to school warm. WARM! Mwaaaahahaha
2. Blackmail. You can tell them that if they don't put on their winter coat, you will sign into their Instagram and post the picture of them picking their nose at Connor's 9 year old birthday party. Yes, you still have that picture and it's just a few fingertip clicks away, my friend. Good-bye hoodie child. Hello warm Puffalump at the bus stop!
3. Beg. You can lose all sense of dignity and get on your hands and knees and beg your child to put the coat on. Remind them that Grandpa walked to school barefoot and that the coat you had to wear in 7th grade was ugly as all sin and look how lucky they are that they have a cool coat we picked out of the Lands End, after winter clearance catalog last spring. Force tears to well up in your eyes. Kids hate to see their moms cry.
4. Bribery. Tell them you will get them the second iPad they've been wanting for when they play Minecraft at David's house even though it makes no sense to own two of them just because they can be lazy and forgetful and want to keep extra iPads on hand like they are extra pairs of underwear. Don't really mean it. You're not buying them a second iPad. Hahaha. But say it anyway. Yes lie. Bribe and then lie to your child.
5. Pray. Pray that they will put the coat on.
6. Threaten to call their father at work. Even though we all know that all he's going to say is, "Put the coat on, man, or you're going down!" And we still have never figured out where "down" actually is and how he's actually planning to take the stubborn children there.
7. Kick them out. Kick them out of the house. Tell them that if they think they're so smart and can go through life wearing hoodies, shorts and no-hats to school on negative 40 degree wind chill days and on cold advisory days where Tom Skilling is clearly telling us that we are all going to die- then go! You must have this all figured out, child! I mean, what do I know? I just kept your butt warm all these years prior to junior high! It's not like I have any experience in this winter wear business! Go! Have a nice life! Door. Slam.
8. Let it go. Deep deep deep (and I'm talking deep) down, even though you are suppressing the memory, you know you had these exact same arguments with your own mom while you were leaving the house to head to the bus stop wearing your Flashdance sweatshirt exposing your cool tank top strap and bare, right shoulder to the cold and wind -- and donning a headband that kept an entire inch and a half of your forehead and skull warm. And you remember not feeling cold. And you remember your mom freaking out. And you remember - somehow- that we all survived.