Wednesday, March 24, 2010


Sometimes, having a kid means you get your heart your own child.

Yesterday I was able to take off from work and hang out with miss M. We didn't have any concrete plans for the day, but we'd talked about going to see a movie and inviting a friend of hers along for the fun.

Early in the day I call the friend's mom to see if she can come, only to found ourselves invited to go swimming with their family and several others as well. So we head out, happy as larks, and go to lunch afterward. We'd originally planned to go to a pizza place just down the street, but found that it had closed that location! So we ended up at Red Robin...much later than any of the kids were used to eating. So, it's 1:30pm, and we have 7 starving kids at our table with four adults.
It was basically crisis management until the food arrived.

Once food arrived, things were fine, and we ended up taking M's friend home with us for a short play time before heading to the movie. We have a grand ol' time at the movie, and dance a little the music, laugh, and imagine that we too, are princesses.

Evening is over, time to take M's friend home, we hang out a little and chat with friend's mom, then head out to home for some dinner.

I put M to bed, and as I'm reading her poems from A Light In The Attic (her favorite...kid's got taste!), she interupts me several times to tell me what a bad, bad day she had. She starts listing a litany of affronts to her personage during the day, from which I was not excused. She ends it all with " I HATE today, today was the worst day ever, I HATE it."
She then goes to sleep.

I go to my room, still smarting, and go to sleep too. I end up dreaming a weird, sad, disturbing dream where I fought with my best friend, then come home to find M nowhere in the house where I'd left her (alone, what on earth?), and the door open. The only thing I cared about at that point was that thieves took my tape measure.

I woke up feeling like a horrible person, not even caring about the well-being of my child over a 2 dollar tape measure, and for basically failing to give her an AWESOME day yesterday while we had some time together.

I know I have unrealistic expectations for myself through all aspects of my life, and parenting is no exception.

I'd just like to know, do your kids hurt your feelings too? I feel downright wounded, and silly for feeling so, since she's only 7, and she's my daughter, so in my mind I should be tougher than that.

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