My daughter has just informed me that she hates me. It's the first time she has ever said this.
My initial reaction would be to give her "what for" and give her a reason for hating me.
But I know that what she meant to say was that she hates how this morning started; she doesn't hate me.
The morning started chaotically. I jumped with a start at 6:30 and yelled downstairs: "Dan! You're going to be late for work! You need to get dressed."
Turns out he was already showered. And dressed. And about to head out the door.
How did I not hear him?
I came downstairs to a Morgan who was half a shot shy from being a human espresso. Lands, this child has energy. "Hi-Mom-Guess-what-Daddy-gave-me-He-gave-me-medicine-and-a-vitamin-And-can_I-kiss-Eve?" Something like that. I forget her exact words.
I not-so-secretly covet her energy.
I gave the Bottomless-Pit (aka- "Baby Eve") a Mommy sandwich and some rice cereal.
I gave Morgan Rice Krispies. Somewhere between the "If you get up one more time from the table" warning and "I hate you" there were little rice shaped cereal pieces that rained through the air and covered the floor.
*Breathe*
The hate statement rushed through me. I vividly remember the adrenaline rush as I told my own parents that same phrase. The words bolted up my lungs and past my lips before I could put the guard on them. I never meant it. I meant I hate being told "no". I meant I hate being the child instead of the parent. I didn't hate them.
And so this morning, I put my daughter in time-out and I recalled my parents' forgiveness. I must have told them a hundred times that I hated them. I'm sure I told them a hundred times a hundred that I loved them, but the hate phrase is so poisonous, it seems like more.
I think being a parent means getting a second chance at life... getting a chance to be a forgiver because (if you've had good parents) you've had so many times of being on the receiving end of forgiveness.
I love my Morgan. I love her energy, her honesty, her zest for life. And I love the forgiveness that brings us closer together.
*Breathe*
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3 comments:
Rough morning, huh? Sorry about that. You've got the right perspective, though -- forgiveness is key...were it not for that, our parents wouldn't have stuck around through our adolescence. Parenting isn't a sprint, nor is it for the faint of heart.
The prize goes to the stubborn, determined people who refuse to let their children forget how much they're loved.
That's us.
I was clicking here to comment about how proud I am to call you my friend - how much I love watching you mother Morgan with such grace and poise and how you are an inspiration to me.
And, just as I was about to write all of that, I read Dan's comment.
And, then started crying. SO, I just had to write it all through tears. You guys have such incredible perspective and are such amazing parents.
PS. One of your best post ever. Ever. Ever.
Oh I have not lived through the "I hate you" yet, but I am keeping this post in my back pocket as a reminder for when it comes. You exude patience, grace, and love in your writing, Emily. I can only imagine what you must be like in person. Morgan won't be able to help but feel that.
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