Wrongin’ to Right

Everyday that I am with my little people I wonder how I am doing as a parent.  Am I instilling the values I want to instill?  Am I teaching them to be faithful, obedient, compassionate, strong and flexible?  I have no idea.

I know that today I failed my daughter.  Getting ready for school she dressed herself in her purple leggings, cream and silver striped dress and lavender sandals.  {Yes, I let my kids wear whatever they want to school.  I have two requirements: clean and covered}.  To complete her perfect look she asked me to fix her hair like Princess Poppy.  For those that have yet to experience this type of request, it stems from the main character in Trolls.  A film that my children are newly obsessed with {more on that later}.  What is troll hair you ask?  It is a high {as in hair piled on the tip top of your head, but without any falling strands} pony tail that sticks straight up.  You remember trolls and their hair?  Yup.  So you also know that a little girl’s hair is NOT troll hair.  A fact that my daughter refused to accept at 7:15 a.m.  I first tried using ration:

Me: there you go!

daughter: {feels pony tail} it is not sticking straight up!

Me: your hair won’t do that.

daughter: {getting flustered} it has to!

Me: {fix hair to be a pony tail folded in half to give the illusion of sticking straight up}

daughter: NO!  It has to be a pony tail that sticks straight up.

me: You don’t have troll hair, honey

daughter: this looks stupid.  My friends will all make fun of me.

Me: you look just like Princess Poppy!

daughter: {unconvinced} I want a braid.

Mommy fail.  So, I try to recover and braid her hair.  This mainly consisted of my daughter screaming and insisting that I was ripping her hair out of her head and me reassuring her that if I braided her hair any more softly then I wouldn’t be touching it.  After continuous fighting with me that I am, in fact, a sadist, she says “I need to sit down.”  Braid completed, she seemed satisfied, but, it wasn’t troll hair.  And I knew it.  Is this the first moment of her young life where she realized mommy can’t do everything?  Is her day ruined and heart broken?  Ok, slightly melodramatic, but you see my point.

But, then there are moments like this:

Assignment is to draw a picture of something that makes you happy.

I figured she would draw a picture of candy or Shopkins {dear Lord is anyone else’s child die-hard Shopkins fanatics?!} or ponies.

daughter: being with my mommy.

{tears}

She isn’t concerned with my hairdressing abilities, fantastical family outings or perfect holiday craft creations.  Her happiness doesn’t stem from the things we do, but just being together.  Wow.  I hope she always feels that way.  I know I will.

I will strive to just be with my kids.  I will stop worrying that I am not doing enough, crafting enough, making memories enough.  Apparently, being is what they remember.  And so will I.  I can do that.  And just maybe, they won’t end up on a therapist’s couch.

happy-2

My two year old ripped it, just ’cause.  But, it is still my treasure!

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