Thursday, March 1, 2012

My Unfavourite Thing

I never hate my children.

And I never hate being a mother.

But I hate that to raise responsible daughters

I sometimes make them hate me.

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March 3rd Post Script: Saw my in-laws tonight for dinner, they asked about what I'd written and then suggested I add an explanation/conclusion. Acacia called me from swimteam practice, asking me to come back to the pool to bring the goggles she had forgotten at home. I had, over the previous two days, reminded her that her goggles were on the stairs, and suggested she put them in her swim bag lest she forget them. So I said no. She would have to swim without them.

Tears. Big crocodile tears and sobs about how she couldn't swim without them. Too bad, my love. I warned you. Perhaps next time you'll listen.

When they arrived home with Nick from practice, both girls ran to me, gave big hugs and said, "I love you." A little nudge from Papa, perhaps? He read my mind? Or my blog?

In any case, they've been very agreeable ever since. I hope when they're teenagers it self-fixes as easily!

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