If you know anything about me at all you know that I love my kids. More than that, I'm grateful for my kids. I honestly don't know who or where I would be today if not for that little boy and that little girl.
That being said, I make no secret that I do not understand the girl one. At all.
I mean, I love her. I love her. I cannot imagine a world without her in it because she's so freaking awesome.
But I don't get her.
I get the boy one. He? Makes sense to me. Probably? Because we're both huge freaks. But I understand freak. I love how much of a dork he is and I especially love how he knows how much of a dork he is and that he totally doesn't care. I understand his sense of humor. I understand how hilarious he is and the way his mind works. I understand who he is as a person.
The girl? Is still a mystery.
I mean, certain things about her I totally get. Right now, open on her bed, is Mary Anne Saves the Day. I read that book when I was about her age. She reads everything she can get her hands on. I so get that. She loves animals (even the cats that cause her to break out in a horrible rash). She's nice to short people. She's sensitive.
I get all that.
But I don't get her.
I want to get her. I want for the two of us to be bff someday. When she's a grown-up and we can have that kind of relationship. I want her to feel like she can ask her mom anything. Confide in me. Ask for my assistance with her own babies.
I don't know that she does.
I don't know that she doesn't, necessarily. But I don't know that she does.
She's getting to be that age. That age that scares me. That age that gives me heartburn. She's emotional...sobbing at the drop of a hat. Moody. Questioning.
All of that is normal and fine and I expect every bit of it. She's really a good kid, despite the moodiness. I know how lucky I am.
But I want to understand her. I want to do better with her.
This morning we were sitting in church. Jason was on one side of me and my little girl was on the other. We all closed our eyes to pray and my immediate thought was:
God, please open my heart so I can hear what you want me to hear. And God, please let me do well with Girl Child. I know how much she needs me now. I don't want to screw her up.
We opened our eyes and my little girl lay her head on my arm. Spontaneously.
The choir sang and I leaned over to her and whispered, "I love you so much."
She needed to hear it. I needed to say it.
I want to get this right.
She deserves it.