I just don’t know how
To console you
Reassure you that you have validity
Not get impatient or angry when you disobey me
Or allow you the amount of independence you claim you have.
When your sweet little self
Shows her grown up attitude
Small. Inconsolable. Panicked.
Like Whatever comes out of my mouth is a bargaining chip
Or as if I said the most awkward thing one could say
To a child.
When we are not listening to one another
My heart swells and fills with anxiety and I can’t hear what you need
My eyes cloud over and I get stuck in a foggy loop of emotions and tears. My voice raises and you cry harder.
I feel incapable of saying what you want to hear
Or finding a happy medium.
I dislike being cross and upset
But with you, most especially.
As you grow and become your own person, I see more and more of myself behind your eyes.
I want to give you the world.
Hear you giggle
Watch you paint your universe in color.
But I am not a teacher like your daddy. The ability to calm and sooth you is not inherent for me
When I am upset.
For that, sweet child of mine, I must confess, troubles me deeply.
But we never go to bed angry
And we will always talk it out until we are comfortable again.
This is My promise to you sweet girl,
I hope you understand.
I just want what’s best for you
Even if my version of that is not what others have in mind
It’ll be you and me kid
And we are going to rule the world!
Mom of a 5 year old, wife to my amazing husband for 11 years, chef and food porn blogger, living in Portland Oregon with bipolar disorder and finding a way to rule the world!