7:34. We are all in the kitchen at this point, dressed and ready to go. Sid-tastic is sleeping. Riley and Adrian are thirsty. I still have to make my coffee and get everyone out the door. Riley says she wants tea. I pull out a sippy cup of iced tea from the refrigerator. I offer it to her. She starts to cry.
“No, not that one.”
“This is tea,” I say. “If you want tea, here it is.”
She starts crying even harder.
“What is it?” I ask. “Why are you crying?”
“You hurt my feelings,” she says.
I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t. I pulled Riley into a hug. I forgot what time it was and what I was doing. I just wanted to hold her and rewind a few minutes and have a little more patience.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t mean to.” I wanted to explain. “Mornings are hard for mommy sometimes. I have to get all of us ready and out the door, and sometimes I just get frustrated.”
I got her milk instead in a new sippy cup. I filled up Adrian’s iced tea. I made my coffee. We all headed to the car, smiley and ready for the day. We left the house about fifteen minutes after I wanted to leave. But what’s fifteen minutes, really?
Today’s been a good one, except I keep coming back to the morning and hurting my daughter’s feelings. That’s an epic fail – to borrow some gaming language – right? But it’s also part of the mother-child relationship. She’ll hurt my feelings. I’ll hurt hers. It happens. It will happen. She will cry, and I will be responsible. I’ll cry, and she will be the cause. Still, I hate that I was responsible for her tears this morning. I hate that I hurt her feelings.
Thursdays are just tough for me. Here’s hoping tomorrow morning, I will have more patience. And maybe by the time the next Thursday rolls around, I’ll be ready for it, too.