Proof.

Dear Bee,

I see every day evidence of how much you’ve grown this past year, not the least of which is the fact that you have (mostly) stopped throwing fits, tantrums, and whinefests when things don’t go your way. Except, of course, if you think I’m favoring your sister. I still hear that complaint quite frequently. You think that because Gracie has a later bedtime, that I love her more than you. You think that because Gracie can read Harry Potter, that I love her more than you. You think that because Gracie has friends who host frequent sleepovers, somehow, inexplicably, means that I love her more than you. (GAH! Really? Beyond my control, kiddo.)

None of this is true, of course. I couldn’t possibly love either of you more than the other. When you have children of your own, you’ll understand how impossible it is for a mama to pick and choose. I love you both absolutely and exactly the same amount.

But. Just in case your six-year-old brain needs proof… The fact that I did not lose my temper when you peed your bed just two nights after you moved to the top bunk, and I had to teeter precariously on a bunk bed ladder for fifteen minutes at four in the morning, that means that I love you. When I didn’t insist the next day that you move to the bottom bunk, that means that I love you, too. Knowing that I could be facing the same situation at any moment – and letting it happen – that means I love you. I understand how much the status of the top bunk means to you, kiddo.

So there.

Love,
Your very tired mama.

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One Response to “Proof.”

  1. Kathy Says:

    You are such a super mama. So hard to make them understand that you love them both the same and that their ages impact what they are allowed to do.

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