buttons

Our daughter knows my buttons. Exactly.

I grew up terribly insecure. Always the new kid (we moved quite a bit). "Flat" chested, curly red hair, braces, glasses, oh, and never reached five feet tall. Take your pick on what to tease me about..... all the other kids did.

So, as our daughter works through her "mad" .... she is very ..... verbal.......

I sit here kind of ..... amused?

Because really, what a way to put me through the fire to make me pure and ..... shiny.....

You name it, I've been called it. (by our daughter)

Thankfully (and your prayers are the reason I'm sure) I'm not taking it "personally"..... Although this morning, during round two of my daughter's rage, I did crank up the Christian cd I had on..... I looked at the clock and realized while it was 5 O'clock somewhere, it was only 9:30 in the morning here..... so I held off (until now) for my glass of wine.

Our boys are doing much better. Much.

Our daughter. She is so mad. So, so mad....... In her screeching mad attacks, I am still, somehow able to hear (like in Horton Hears a Who)..... a tiny little something saying "I am here, I am here, I am here......." She's in there somewhere...... smothered and suffocating under this mad HOLD ........

Right now though? She is working on a puzzle, and the peaceful music is playing....... I've got one boy in the shower, and one boy working on an activity book.....

To the world, in this moment, we look so normal......

Yet, we are so broken.

A good reminder of what most of the world probably functions like.........

xo
K.