We moms. We're a bright bunch. It's been said that we have eyes in the back of our heads. We can distinguish the particular brand of silence that says our children are up to something, even when we're in different rooms. An instinct kicks in when they're ready to act like a bull in a china shop. We know the look in their eyes that means they're hatching their next plan or telling a lie, sometimes even before they know it.
So why are we so surprised every time it happens? By "it" I mean the endless supply of irrational, impulsive and destructive things that occur on a daily basis.
When Claire rubs crayon into the Oriental carpet or sticks her hand in the trash for the hundredth time, I'm always shocked. Each time, it feels like the first time.
Each time, I want to say "Why did you just do that?" I want to say, "Didn't I just tell you not to?" I want to say, "Why don't you listen?"
When I'm particularly flabbergasted, I want to scream "Why, why, why?" to the heavens. Sometimes I do.
Am I just an eternal optimist, whose hopes are dashed each day? Do I wake up every morning believing that today will be different? Today she will listen. Today she will respect my things. Today she will follow my well-defined rules.
Of course not. I know a child needs to learn how to behave. She needs practice. She needs to be told over and over again. She needs to break the rules, even.
Yet, each time my child shows a kid's nature, I'm surprised.
I think it's because I want to be able to let my guard down every now and then. But, when I do, no good comes of it.
It sucks not being able to let your guard down every now and then.
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