little miss bean

I recently told my mom “Now I know why you were so cranky when we were growing up”. The minute I said it I regretted it. That isn’t what I meant. It came out all wrong. Of course I don’t look back on my childhood thinking that my mom was always cranky. Most of my childhood memories are of laughter and smiles, but I do remember the feeling of thinking to myself “geesh Mom, I was only asking…” and wondering why I didn’t always get an answer with a smile. If we could rewind life to that moment you would see me walking into a room where my mom was trying to cook dinner, clean the house, keep track of my younger sisters and asking her something like “can you take me to my friends house right at this very minute since you have nothing else to do?”. Sofia asked me the other day why I was always so angry. At first I was a bit surprised, but now that I think about it that is usually what she hears. I told her I am not angry, just frustrated she doesn’t listen to me. The other day she asked why I had to yell, and I said I wouldn’t have to yell if she would listen to me when I was talking to her. She only seems to pay attention to what I am saying if I am saying it loudly.

One of the meetup groups we belong to went to CHAP (Children’s Healing Art Project) for an hour of painting and crafts. They really should call it the Children and Parent’s Healing Art Project. You walk in, put on a smock and can pretty much paint anything you see. It was nice to just be with Sofia and not have to tell her no, don’t touch, put that down, can you please just calm your body for two seconds before I freak the s@#$! out. We painted, we glued, we glittered and collaged. I didn’t have to yell, didn’t need to yell, didn’t want to yell. It was an hour of peace and fun, laughter and smiles. I am hoping it is something she always remembers. I know I will. What I am choosing to forget is when I told Sofia it was time to go home and she smacked me in the face with a hand covered in glue and glitter. There was whisper yelling and threats of timeouts when we got home. But hey, it is all what we choose to remember right?