I Love you More, A**hole

Dear sweet little girl of mine,

You steal my heart with every glance. You can be the sweetest, kindest, most loving little soul that ever lived and then you can not be just as quickly. I don’t know what it was that set you off this morning.

You had plenty of sleep.

I woke you in plenty of time.

You didn’t even have to wear a uniform today.

All you had to do was wake up, put on something you actually wanted to wear, eat breakfast, brush your teeth and go to school.

At 7:15 a.m when you finally came downstairs, you yelled at me because you couldn’t find the one pair of jeans that you wanted to wear (because the other 500 pairs are not “the One”) then you proclaimed that you wanted to take lunch.

Your hair wasn’t brushed. You were indecisive and sarcastic about your breakfast choice and you lost your mind over a pair of socks. SOCKS!

I am trying to make your lunch because you “HATE” the egg omelets that they are serving today. It’s 7:25 and in your haste and anger, you spilt a drop of milk from down your too-thin, already vetoed shirt. At which point you stomp off barefooted, yelling back to me at 7:27, “I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY MOM!”

I’m not. I’m REALLY not.

Your sister has dressed herself, eaten breakfast and brushed her teeth today. She has also assembled both backpacks and is now looking for gloves for you both. You still don’t have on any socks, nor are your teeth brushed as you dump your breakfast down the kitchen sink. It’s 7:35, we were supposed to have left 5 minutes ago.

Beloved child of mine, I know that at the tender age of 7-years-old socks, shirts and lunch seem like BIG problems but they’re not. I lost a job, there’s a blizzard outside, I’m trying to quit sugar, I have 47 grey hairs, I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs, I have bills to pay and it’s “that” time of the month. Please, stop tap dancing on my nerves. It’s taking every ounce of my strength not to shake you.

At 7:43, when books are being thrown about and feet are being stomped, I offer to brush your hair to which you roll your eyes at me. I roll mine too.

Your sister is standing at the front door, sweating in full winter gear, trying not to pass out while holding your backpack, violin and COLD LUNCH. As I brush your hair, I try to remember how sweet and kind you are when you cuddle deep into me every night before bedtime. I try to remember that beautiful glorious smile that lights up my life;  your tiny voice whispering, “I love you, mommy” and the sticky love notes you leave me all over the house. I try to remember that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Then you grunt and startle me back to reality. It’s 7:45, school begins in 5 minutes.

You growl and mutter something ugly under your breath, I honestly can’t even remember what it was. I tell you how very disappointed I am in your behavior this morning. I inform you that you will be grounded from all electronics for the duration of the week. You begin to sob inconsolably. I’m not sure if it’s the loss of the electronics or my disappointment that has caused this outburst.

Finally, 7:47 a.m. we are headed out the door. You are annoyed at me that you will be late. I hold my tongue. As we pull away, you yell, “I forgot my ballet shoes.” Before I can respond, you begin to sob again.

“I’ll find them. Don’t worry.” You continue to sob.

We arrive at school, 4 minutes late. Before jumping out of the car, you unbuckle yourself, jump forward and hug me tightly, “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you more!” I say to both my girls, as the other one jumps forward and gives me a kiss and squeezes me from behind. It’s 7:54 a.m. and I am spent. Even after all of this, the saddest part of my day is watching you both walk away.

daughter, not listening, growing up, I love you more

                                                                                                                                                                                                      Love You More!

 

 

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Comments (3)

I feel like this will be me in 5 years! My two year-old gives me a run for my money now but every evening she hugs me tight and we say our I love you and she sleeps so peacefully it makes me love her more.
I’m not ready for 7! Hugs for you mama and thanks for the I Love You More reminder.

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