"Mom, how does the Tooth Fairy fly through the air?"
"How do YOU think?"
"I think moms do it."
"But how can a Mom be a Tooth Fairy?"
"Good moms are lots of things, Princess."

Thursday, April 1, 2010

It is What it is

We missed the bus. And that extra 10 minutes of me driving to school is the reason I cannot get my stomach unclenched. My stomach is clenched, not from Princess describing the system the substitute uses to help the kids manage bathroom requests, but from keeping myself from screaming, "BUT YOU DON'T USE @#$%^ $#@#%$$^@ &%$^ %**%$^ TOILETS!!!!!!" while banging my head on the steering wheel. It was not easy.

If, when I was 12, you had told me I would someday achieve this level of self-control, I would have knelt down on the floor and cried out of thankfulness and relief. I did very well in school, but I never got higher than a "needs improvement" in the Self-Control grade box. But my 12-year-old self has no idea what that achievement will take to gain. No. Idea.

I cannot be the parent I want to be with Princess. I'm not exactly complaining here; I am blessed with three children with whom I DO get to be the parent I want to be. Well. Two and a half. Maybe two and three-quarters these days. But you always want it all, right? And I am SO SAD that the relationship I want to have with her is not, at this moment, possible. Someday, hopefully, but she's not six anymore, and I'll never get that back.

Instead, I have to be the parent she needs. This means I keep my yapper shut most of the time. This means I always, always stop two beats to think about what I'm going to say. This means when I do speak, I speak in five-word sentences. And this means that when I speak to her in five-word sentences and she starts to fuss loudly at the third word because it has become clear to her that the sentence is not going to be either, "would you like more candy?" or "let's go buy a new toy," I must turn and walk away. The things I want to do with her she is not emotionally ready to do. I have to do what she needs, not what I want. And I only want what every mommy wants. So it is so. very. hard.

I am so sad for her and for what she's missing. And for what I'm missing. But I love her. I want this stuff to get easier for her. I spend perhaps 75% of my time and energy for parenting ALL the kids on advocating and arranging for her. I fail at giving her what she needs every single day.

And all I can do is keep going.


  1. I had to do a lot of grieving over what I thought J's life should be like at 6/7. It was really hard. Think I'm doing the same thing with K now.
    It is hard.

  2. I don't think you fail every day. It sounds like you work hard every day to be the parent she needs. It is not easy, pushing yourself into battle all the time. Most people would have been put away themselves by now!

  3. Thanks guys. Just in a low place right now, I guess.