Do your kids have multiple personalities or is it just mine?  Specifically my almost-10-year-old daughter Freckles.  Last week, I was absolutely at my wit’s end with her.  Everything was “this is the worst day/morning/hour/song/shirt/shoe/night of my life” and “I hate this show/these jeans/this book/my brother/school/you.”  Absolutely everything sent her into a tailspin and subsequently sent me into a tailspin.

How does that happen?  When they’re born, the umbilical cord is cut.  I remember this.  I was there.  And yet, somehow, we feel all their emotions.  Not only do we feel for them because we love them, but they have the ability to push all our buttons like nobody else.

I am not a yeller, but when Freckles complained about the 617th thing in a 22-minute timespan, I lost it.  I did.  “I didn’t sign up for this,” I remember thinking.  (I think that a lot.)  “How did that adorable curly-headed Botticelli-angel-baby turn into this relentlessly negative fire-breathing monster?”  And I “breathed” back.  “Stop complaining.  Just stop.  I don’t want to hear one more negative thing.  Think whatever you want, but don’t say it.”

I know that yelling only adds to the tension.  I know it gets shut out.  I know, I know.  But, you know, I’m human.

Anyway, probably not because of the yelling and not necessarily coincidental to the yelling but at some point subsequent to the yelling, things changed.

This week, Freckles has been my best little buddy.  An absolute pleasure.  Last night, when I was putting her to bed, she handed me a folded-up origami envelope on which she’d written “Mommy.”  I asked if I could open it on the spot and she said yes.  Inside, Freckles had written, “I ♥ you.  ♥ Freckles.”  I shut off the lights, crawled into bed with her, stroked her hair and kissed her nose.  Angel-baby was back.  Big time.

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  Posted by: Sarit Catz