It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized the words of a three year old could cut so deeply…
When I was about 14, maybe 15, I got in one of the many arguments that teenage daughters have with their mothers. For two people like us, who are so genetically entwined, arguments were just par for the course. During one of those particular snarling matches, for reasons I’ll never remember, I told my mother I hated her. It was the first and last time, as it was badly received with a slap across my face … which I deserved 100%.
What I didn’t realize until today, was the stingy pain on my cheek was nothing but a mere tap compared to the hurt she must have felt by those words. When a mother gives up her body to bring you life, when she gives you her every waking moment for months after your birth, when she gives you 18 years of her entire life … a little love and respect is not much to expect in return.
Yesterday, I felt that stingy pain of a slap to the heart when I was shopping with husband and daughters.
As we were checking out, Kaydence became infuriated with me when I asked her for the 100th time to sit on her bottom in the cart. My demand was met with hands on the hips, her snarling face and a scream (that everyone could hear) … “I HATE YOU MOMMY!”
… the words literally stabbed me in the heart.
Within seconds of crying in front of everyone, I pulled her from the cart and talked to her in a secluded corner about how she made me feel. While I didn’t get one of her sweet “I’m sorry” replies, I did get a hug, which was just a mere bandaid for the pain.
The sad part … while it may be the first time she says it, it probably won’t be the last. I suppose I’ll have to toughen up a bit before her teenage years come crashing down on me because if she thinks I a mean mom now, she doesn’t know what she’s in for.