Yesterday my daughter was playing dress up and make believe, which she does every day, and she says to me, “Mom, I’ll be the princess and you can be the housekeeper.” Yes indeed, that’s me. Now that I work 6 days per week for the most part, my house has manifested some messes that have actually taken me down (I slipped on a toy saxophone and crashed to the wood floor at 7:30 in the morning) and threatened to consume me. In fact, they do consume me. Most of the time that I’m home which is not much, I’m trying to beat back this mess. I will find myself washing dishes and staring out the window wishing I could just go wandering on a beach somewhere for like a week, or a month, and get paid for it.

We had to stop and get groceries the other day and my daughter was annoyed for whatever reason – I wouldn’t buy her yet another princess item of whatever sort – and she said she hates me. Already? I don’t think I “hated” my Mom until I was like 14 or something, and then I stopped “hating” her around 16 when I moved out and realized I never did.

Motherhood is so often a thankless job, but yesterday, as I sat at the top of the stairs and thought I’d cry (which is very rare since being medicated for mood disorders) my son intuitively came up the stairs, gave me a huge hug, and kiss and said, “I love you, Mom.” It was the first time he’s said that without me saying it first, and boy did I need it at that moment. This child has always known what I’ve needed – when I get mad (usually at Rory) he’ll get between us and beam a huge smile at me, or dance, and it’ll break my focus enough to make me smile, and then I’m more able to deal with her respectfully.

I think the biggest issue between my daughter and I is that I have, in the past, dealt with her strong personality (she’s a Taurus) rather harshly and without the respect that I should have – and now she’s disrespectful to me while still being a hard-headed and self-centered (normal 4 year old). I can’t undo that, but I am working to show her respect. She still does the “Rory jig” when told “No” but she doesn’t throw herself on the floor and tantrum as much. She still cries (her teachers have mentioned this as an issue at school) when she doesn’t get her way on occasion, but I think as she rounds the bend to age 5 in the Spring, we’ll get along a lot better. We already giggle sometimes at things, which we haven’t done much of prior. She’s a bright child, can be a very sweet child, and is funny like her Dad. I adore her and her brother, and would die without them.

I’ve never been more convinced of angels and God as I have been throughout the past 4 years. Their grandmother (Shelley) is, I’m convinced, always around, and has shielded them from injury countless times throughout their learning to walk years. I think although the timing of Gage wasn’t intentional on my part, it was on God’s part – he often keeps me sane.

This morning, seeing my organization of her Barbies, Rory came out and said, “You’re a genius, Mom!”  However, my son just said, “I’m not your friend, Mom,” because I won’t let him open his uncle’s present.  I wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything, but I’d still like to wander on a beach for a month.  🙂