Me and My Shadow

My daughter and I are very similar. Perhaps too similar. I read somewhere once, in one of my parenting books, that any traits you have will be shown in your kids only magnified. Unfortunately, I have some nasty traits. Yelling is one, the occasional freak out is another. Sure as the sun comes up, I have seen these traits thrown back in my face like a vengant boomerang.

Needless to say, this can create some trying moments with my daughter and I. When she went to bed the other night, I was exhausted. Perhaps she didn't get enough sleep the night before (I let them stay up to watch Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. Crazy Friday night, I know) or, perhaps it was the two doughnuts she had had that day but she was a bear. I cried. I cried because I found that I did not even enjoy her company that day. I did not even want her in the same room as me because I knew there would be a request or emotional breakdown that would drain me of my last ounce of energy.

I just kept thinking that tomorrow would be a new day. So I put her to bed on time that night and finished the doughnuts myself (it was a sacrifice I had to make). The next day began only marginally better. I was really working to get the house looking like if a social worker walked in she wouldn't have to think twice about weather the children could stay. Just as I was making some headway, I headed upstairs to tackle that situation.

One glance at the floor revealed that my two-year-old had gotten into my scrap paper and scattered hundreds of little pieces of papaer all over the floor. This was my breaking point. I just sat down in my chair and began to cry. I just needed a moment to let it all out before I tackled this latest disaster. I was a little irked when my daughter walked in before I could compose myself. I mean crying over a mess, how old am I, really? I didn't want her to see that. But she did. She leaned over and gave me a big, genuine hug. It felt nice. It was really the first time in a while we weren't at odds. I explained to her my problem and she quickly began to resolve it. "I'll clean this room, George will clean the kitchen and you'll clean the family room. We'll have this place clean in no time!" It made my heart melt.

So we each went to our posts and she cleaned the upstairs room and she really did a good job. George, on the other hand, decided while cleaning the kitchen that he wanted a snack of oatmeal so that was really counterproductive. But her ability to see I was having a tough time and help me out touched me deeply.

My daughter has challenged me in ways I have never been challenged in my whole life. I will be a better person because of it. Tomorrow was a new day, and it was great. I love you Riley.