Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Daily Report

I have to remind myself, when she's whining or pouting or spitting, that I'd rather have her act this way with me than with other people.
Most adults that Addie comes in contact think that she is a perfect princess. I am always told, by whomever she has just been with, that she is so sweet or has such good manners or listens so well. More often than not I am told that she was no trouble at all.

I am always thankful to hear such kind things about my daughter. Who doesn't want to have a child that other people genuinely like? I would much prefer to hear such compliments over gosh, she was moody today or she could use a little work on her P's and Q's or I had to ask her 17 times to pick up her toys.

What bothers me, I guess, is that the last three statements are some variation of what Andy gets to hear each night when he gets home. He'll inevitably ask How was she today? and I'll, without hesitation, provide a list of the things that went bad during the day. Whether it be her screeching at the cat, throwing toys, blatantly not listening or sticking her tongue out at me. It is rare that Andy gets to hear all the good things about Addie, because after ten hours of she and I one-on-one all I seem to be able to remember is the bad stuff.

Somehow I block out the good. Like how she feeds the cat and reminds me to refill the water bowl. Or when she tells me the frozen waffle I toasted is yummy and that I am such a good cook. I forget that she tried to help clean the kitchen or that she drew a picture just for me.

By then time he gets home it slips my mind that she hugged me just because she felt like it and that she curled up on my lap to read princess stories and fell asleep. Instead of remembering the giggles during our tea parties all I can focus on is the tantrum that occurred when it was time to pick up her room.

I think that I need to tell Andy about our day - all of it. From the tears when I made her pigtails too tight to the smiles because I cut her peanut butter sandwich into a heart. He needs to know about her temper tantrums and her kindness.

I am sure that not everyday I can greet him when he comes home and say She is so sweet - she was no trouble at all, but I think it would be best if I could, more often than not, find the silver lining instead of just seeing the storm cloud.

Because it is true - she is so sweet.

And just a tad bit sassy...

1 comment:

Kathy said...

Amen, Amen, Amen!!!!Once again, the apple doesn't fall....blah, blah, blah!