Haircut PTSD Lessened By Stranger Things

My daughter's first haircut was unfortunately out of desperate necessity after the car accident four years ago. My daughter has gorgeous red hair with curls. She was blessed to have more than just my humidity waves but less than the crazy 80's perm curls from my ex-husband's side. In the car accident, we were the epitome of bad parents when she was already overdue for a bath, she was in hand me down pajamas and she looked like a ragamuffin with her crazy hair. To top it off, in one of my "I can garden," stints, we had some soil in the back of the hatchback that exploded all over her in the impact so she looked like orphan Annie ready to sing, "Hard Knock Life."

After we got her home and recovered, she couldn't go in the bath with casts. Her hair was rough and ratty. My friend owned a salon and we tag teamed her hair, with all the expensive product they could spare. We couldn't get out the giant rats nest. It was impossible. No matter what product, what brushes. We had to take her into the salon the cut it out when she was three. Ever since then, haircuts have been very touch and go.

I have always found and befriended hairdressers because it's important to trust people with your red hair. Plus, if I ever want to do crazy color and upgrade the look, it's nice to know where to go. I thought if Luna knew the person cutting her hair it would make it easier. This has rarely been the case.

Luna's little best friend's mom is a hairdresser so I commissioned her for the job in the pandemic because I'm not ready to take the kid to the salon. My ex used to like to take her to one of those kid cuts places where you sit in the little car, watch Disney or Nickelodeon and get a balloon afterwards, but I always preferred her in the hands of a friend.

The last haircut my friend gave her was a simple trim. My child acts like she's being tortured during haircut time so it can be a test in anyone's patience. My ex-husband and I have always argued about her hair. He says I don't understand curly people hair problems so I was pretty much not allowed an opinion. What he doesn't understand is that I am a woman and might not know much, but I know about hair. To my mother's credit she raised me to know how lucky I am to have my thick red hair and that people pay a lot of money to have my color and it pales in comparison when it's fake so I should take care of my hair as much as I can.

While hair care has been completely lost in motherhood for myself, I still try my best with the kid. The other night after I thought I'd done okay not losing my mind after some stressful days, she came to me with a ratty and I had to cut it off and told her that her friend's mom was going to cut it whether she liked it or not. I conformed to all bribery. She sat in my new, adjustable office chair watching My Little Pony, with my water bottle she tries always tries to steal, along with her little bestie holding her hand as though we were about to put her through torture. 

My friend gave her perfect, curly layers and lightened it to perfection. My daughter went to look at it and threw herself onto the floor. She hated it. For about three hours she said she looked horrible and the rest of the day was recovery. Luckily my friend took no offense.

In the midst of all this, we had just begun watching Stranger Things and I kept saying, "You look like Eleven! Wait until you see season three, it's the same! Or Nancy, Nancy's hair is like that!" It took her all day to warm to it and the next morning when she brushed it effortlessly she said, "Mommy, I do look like Eleven and I'm always going to ask for this haircut."

Since then it's all she can talk about. She tells and shows everyone, she talks about Stranger Things, which chapter we're on and how her hair is just like Eleven's. She says she's going to be Eleven for Halloween and I'm going to be Max.

I know Stranger Things isn't a cure for haircut PTSD, but it sure has done some great things this round. My daughter has been shoving her hair into a ponytail with scrunchie since I can remember and it's okay, but her hair makes her gorgeous little face shine and I wish she'd let it down or do half up and little clips and such. This haircut has brought all that into action and with Eleven's help, hopefully we can keep the trend going. 

I always knew Stranger Things was bad ass. I've been dying to get my kid to watch something that wasn't on Disney Plus that I actually enjoy, and I finally got her into it. It's been some fantastic bonding time because she's really into it and loves the whole gang.

Parenting is rough any day. Add in a pandemic, a divorce, and all these transitions, we're bound to fight. Thank goodness for Netflix and mom and daughter pajama parties to heal all the life trauma. 

Quotes, Notes And Being In The Same Boats

I am a self -proclaimed "quote hoarder." My attachment to Instagram is 90% quote and affirmation related. I have notebooks in storage just filled. Why? Quotes are a great pick me up. Ironically I'd heard a story about someone during world suicide awareness week and in reference to people's struggle with suicidal thoughts it was mentioned that maybe Social Media was a negative influence and when we are down we don't need to find the next inspirational quote but look to higher powers.

While I appreciate the sentiment, I'm the opposite. When I'm in the worst mood or head-space, I look to the perfect quote, perfect song lyric or perfect phrase to support where I am mentally and to give me a perspective on it. Notes come along the same lines in terms of, sending a note or positive affirmation when you're having a bad day might in turn shape someone else's day into something better.

As far as being in the same boat or boats for cutesy rhyming title reasons, I think that feeling as though you're not alone and adrift is kind of important. Yesterday was a Monday of a Monday. Not only did I "party" hard on Sunday with calories and all things meant for Saturdays in retrospect, but effectively reminded myself of my age, and that my body is slightly delicate. Yesterday I was just off my game. 

My entire household stayed up too late Sunday pretending it wouldn't matter. My daughter and I suffered the most and just ended the day fragile and in a funk. Yesterday instead of having a shorter attention span in my exhaustion, however, I was able to channel some soft maternal instincts and be a serious mother.

When I picked up my little one I could tell she was down a peg. She's not sick but her allergies are killing her. We have a regimen to combat it but when she started feeling better, we got lazy and she had a bit of a revisit from the snots and sinus stuff. Yesterday I said, "Okay let's forget the normal rules and get you to just chill."

We made some agreements on how the night would go. I let some of the rules slide and she did pretty well. When I got her to communicate properly her anxiety about being assigned "new jobs" in class tomorrow was part of the issue, but also just needed a good night's sleep and some medicine to help with her feeling a little off. I was able to keep my calm in my hangry, sleepy state.

Okay I lost it once when she tried to get sour cream and then Nutella on my sheets. EW! I said go clean up and keep your face off my linens! Kids are gross!

There was a weird sense of comfort knowing we were both in the same boat. She was anxious about school. I was anxious about life. I literally admitted to myself yesterday that I had extended myself out to people and was in over my head, like, I was not equipped to handle their drama.

Last night and today I have been saving and pinning and noting all the quotes. Some are silly. Some are inspirational, and some are ironic. I've posted in excess on Instagram because I'm sorting things out with all of my coping mechanisms. Sometimes I feel like in this age of technology my emotions and rationalizations are a vision board of all the feels. Anxiety makes me feel scattered and all over, but if I can collect my thoughts into one succinct sentence, maybe I can re-frame them into something pretty? Like a collage!? 

I also build scenarios for the reactions of others. I go over how conversations may or may not play out. Yes, it is exhausting being inside my head. This is why I work out. I physically tire out my body so my mind gets shut off as my body hits "sleep mode" at bed time. Ridiculous but true.

I feel comforted with quotes. I feel comfort with being in the same boat or boats with like-minded people. With the quotes, I feel it's a reminder that someone, somewhere felt that too, and now you have the words to put the feelings down on paper. With the boats I just feel like not being alone is always a good thing to remember, I mean the planet is packed. Alone alone would be quite an achievement, but finding commonality is crucial.

Sometimes when I see my daughter acting too much like me, it can be cringe-worthy but last night being in the same tired, whiny boat with her made me more compassionate and considerate, which I really held close to my heart. Being able to turn it out and "be a mom," is not something I do with confidence, so when it happens I kind of want to do a happy dance. Ironically yesterday I did find an awesome quote about how moms need to take care of themselves, how moms need self care because kiddos need them, so maybe that quote did the work necessary to carry me through.

As I'm rounding out all the ideas for this installment of the blog, I would want to leave this idea with my readers; we all have our own coping mechanisms for when we are going through mentally stressful times. We all have our own triggers, so what works for you, let work FOR you. Maybe all my posting will have people asking "What is she doing?" Maybe people will just think "She's probably sorting things out." Maybe people won't even notice. For now, for me, for this day and this time and this mentality that I'm operating within, the quotes, the notes and the being in same boats are all pushing me through process. Find what's yours and keep working!

The Biggest Big Girl Thing To Say

This weekend I hit my max. It was Saturday to be exact. 

I think we were all in a post-vacay back-to-school funk. I did that thing we all do best where we subconsciously promise that if we can just make it to the weekend, things will get better. I did what I had to do, and then some, to get us through. Even our Friday was okay.

I yell sometimes. I hate that I do it, but it happens. I try very much not to, but when I'm mentally pushed to the edge, plus tired, plus fighting off a sinus infection, I just felt like 3 strikes, I'm out. Saturday I had to handle some stuff really well, that I shouldn't have had to deal with at all, and I still had chores to do, and on the rainy day what I wanted to do most was nothing and I totally broke down.

The breakdown was a slow process. It started when we left the house to get gas and then go to a birthday party. We didn't make it around the corner when my daughter started complaining about a cramp. Then it became the worst thing ever and she would die without water. We were 5 minutes from destination 1, 15 minutes from the party.

I attempted to calm her, to down play. I attempted to rationalize. Still the agonizing cries and shrieks were happening. At the gas station she just had to get out and get a water at the store. I got annoyed because $2 in water was not necessary. She could drink her weight in free water at the party. There is a part of me that has been wrestling with the "Suck it up" attitude, often.

Then when the water didn't instantly heal here there we go again. By the time I got us back and settled, ready to go to the party I lost it and yelled. I yelled loudly and a lot. Not my best moment.

I started firing off the list of lost privileges. No technology! We're not staying for the party! Early bed! It was then from the back seat, calmly, I heard her say, "I'm sorry mom I just don't know how to control my anger sometimes." She didn't even say it in a bratty way. It snapped me right back where I needed to be.

My tone completely morphed and I said, "You know what, that was a big girl thing to say. That's a big deal that you said that. So you may have your privileges back because saying that is a huge deal. You acknowledged." It was then that I asked her to notice how calm my tone was and how when she shared with me her thoughts and true feelings, I can better help her.

Then I got down to business. Is this a real stomach cramp or dehydration and just, listening to your body? We then discussed the "Let's go to the doctor" feeling and the "my body is just working on something," feeling. Of course once we got to the party that cramp magically disappeared as did both of our attitudes.

I'm still reveling in this. The whole exchange really. To me it was all growing pains for us both and both of us running on empty. I am self-aware of these feelings for sure but for being 6 and 1/2 she sure was able to pinpoint her frustration well and somehow call me out on my irrational outburst as well. 

For Monday, this little tale is all I have but I wanted to leave it for all the moms who have needed to tap out and who have been pushed to their mental limits. I loved this little lesson, no matter how messy, and am holding it dear because it made us closer this weekend. And I loved every moment of it. 

The DVD Punishment - When Parenting Gets Funny

I play it pretty fast and loose when it comes to restricted technology stuff. And my daughter is getting nearer to age 7 and she is well aware of what the swear words are and that she is not allowed to use them. When she acts out, especially as the tantrums and fighting with parents comes into play, the first thing she loses is any kind of technology. It's the best form of punishment.

My husband and I quickly learned, that there are ways around this where the parents are also punished. On exhausted weeknights, when my kiddo loses her TV takeover and tablet privileges, the rule is, "You can't watch one of your shows. You have to watch what I want to watch." This is why I spent time in my room when I was little, because my dad would watch Law and Order and stuff I hated.

She usually tolerates my binge-shows, Friends, The Office, Seinfeld and Parks and Rec just fine. Anything else is debate-able. I found out recently that some of my daughter's little friends have been watching my current obsession, Stranger Things, with their kiddos. My daughter is a bit of a scaredy-cat if you will, so I decided that I would offer her the chance to watch it and promised her it was all very much not real and also a story from 30+ years ago, so it's all okay. She has since declined.

Now we have been forcing movies on her since she came out into the world and the bulk are completely appropriate. Some of them may have been a bit over her head but still language and story appropriate. Some things we realized were a little dark and sad so we curbed those but last night I realized that it was time to get her out of her element a bit.

The movies my husband and I grew up on, we have re-watched and realized are filled with swear words and sometimes too much sexuality before they changed the ratings. My dad notoriously let me watch movies I should have never been able to watch at the age I was allowed to watch them. So when I watched movies with my parents where people were clearly having sex they explained it away as "Oh they are just exercising." 

Many, many sexual innuendos went over my naive little head in my youth and I now re-watch these movies like, wait, what? The greatest thing about 80's films, in my opinion were the epic actors and comedians. Ghostbusters, The Goonies, Back to The Future, Blues Brothers, Roxanne, Big, Turner and Hootch, Princess Bride, The Neverending Story, Labyrinth, and so on and so forth were those comedies that kids could watch but had humor for the parents, however inappropriate. It was last night that I turned to our crazy collection of DVDs for my daughter's technology band punishment.

My husband and I have over 200 DVDs I think. Even when streaming came out we didn't stop collecting them because the internet doesn't always work and we are from the "have a hard copy" generation. We used to browse Wal-Mart at odd hours and hit the $5 DVD bins and go wild. We especially love adding holiday classics now and Disney films to the collection. 

My daughter threw an epic tantrum and the issue we've been struggling with is "I'm sorry doesn't just take away the bad behavior." I've had to make clear to her that, while it is important to say I'm sorry and while that's so wonderful to apologize, it doesn't mean you just get your privileges back. It's a weird line and she crosses it often. So there was screaming and when she calmed down and ate her dinner I said, "I have a bunch of chores to do out here and we can watch something, but I'm going to pick."

I was browsing around and thinking of something she wouldn't totally hate. Pirates of the Caribbean? Eh, maybe. The Mask? Eh, too weird. And then I stumbled upon the Tom Hanks section of our DVDs and there it was...SPLASH. Yes the movie about the mermaid in Manhattan, total score.

It started slow and she got a little bored. There were many benign swear words and all kinds of weird sexual undertones of course I had forgotten about. By the time the mermaid found television and got to go ice skating, she was fully engaged with the story. It was the best punishment ever.

I now think she is ready for the likes of Ghostbusters and especially, E.T. It was one of those weird punishments that actually brought us together. I watched Moana 8,000 times. When was the last time I stopped what I was doing and watched Splash? It made me think of all the other gems we have hidden on a shelf and we really need to make her watch. Indiana Jones, Star Wars, even Lord of The Rings at some point. But for now we will keep her in 80's classics as her punishment, and what a punishment it is.

Parenting gets weird. I try not to fit into too many "I'm that mom" categories but it's hard. I work full time, she is in camp or school or aftercare full time. Her dad works full time. Even Grandma works full time. There is laundry, cleaning, grocery shopping, and food prep to do but sometimes you just gotta browse the DVDs and sit down and chill as a family. Even when my husband got home last night he was like, "Is this Splash!? We should watch Big next!"

Funny punishments make the whole parenting thing a little more palatable. Sometimes I'm too tired to be the scolding disciplinarian. Sometimes she's not being so bad, but just really needs to remember how to handle her little emotions and behave at home. Sometimes I've had a horrible day and I'm inadvertently short-fused. It's these moments where you need a tweak in the routine without throwing off the balance but selling her on a movie "mom picked," is almost as successful and selling her on fruit being a dessert. 

When parenting gets funny, it gets lighter. When things get lighter, they often feel better. I've started telling my daughter that if she just calls today a day, and goes to bed and reboots, we can all do better tomorrow. She seems to be warming to that idea and I'm digging the nights when the worst thing I have to do to "punish" her, is pick a new movie for us to watch.

The Broken Spoon

When my parents split when I was 16, they divided everything in half in terms of most of the "stuff." Then my mom and dad ended up giving me the bulk of it when I was in my twenties. Dishes, albums, turntables, random furniture and pictures were given to me. The dishes are the ones that have followed me everywhere; every state and home I've ever lived. 

I found some of my childhood dishes. I mean little ceramic plates with horses and flowers on them for kid-sized things. There are spoons with ceramic dog and cat handles and of course the Christmas-related dishes we dust off once a year.

I used to guard these kinds of things carefully. I was never one to buy a bunch of "nice things" so the things I did have that were nice, I loved and kept close. I was a collector of random stuff...until I had kids. Then I wanted no stuff, and certainly nothing of value. Everything gets broken at some point and anything can lose sentiment as we grow older and the memories fade out, so most things we have now just center around functionality.

In 10 years together my husband and I have never been able to agree on a dish set. In my first apartment, my mom got me purple and maroon striped matching everything and my husband loathed them. They were replaced by my parents set of light blue Pfaltzgraff and we wore those to the bone. We still have them, they now just hide in "retirement" for special occasions only or if necessary at all. We have a random array of IKEA, Bed, Bath and Beyond, and JC Penney stuff from over the years but nothing special.

I used to have little decorative things all over. The dog took down a few of them but one ceramic bowl I painted at one of those paint your pottery places? Yeah my daughter broke that on the tile within the first 6 months after we bought the house. It didn't bother me. It served no real purpose except that I made it and it was now one less thing to dust.

The bottom of the butter dish that was my dad's and is older than me that matches nothing but I refuse to give up? Yeah my daughter grabbed something from the counter and rocketed that thing right off into 50 ceramic shards, again on the tile in the new house. That one I was pretty annoyed with. She apologized but I knew it wasn't really her fault. This is life, it's messy and things break often.

Something kicked in when we got the new house to where I just didn't care about having "nice things," anymore I was just so grateful to have a house of our own. We've never bought furniture from a legit store other than IKEA. We have lived off of hand me downs for quite some time.

We got a pull out couch from an auction right before I had the baby. We had completely trashed that thing by the time she was 3 years old. It was ripped and torn and falling apart. We got a replacement faux leather one that got ripped by dogs and just wasn't even that comfy. Our newest couches were a gracious gift from someone we love very much and I scold my daughter for mistreating them and say, "We will never get nice stuff like this for free ever again!"

I got a bunch of free stuff from an old boss too, including a piano. Total score! None of it matches or is even really my taste but free is for me. It has never occurred to me to go buy matching things honestly, because I feel like I have no one to impress and with kids and dogs and life, who wants to look like they live in a museum? I want our place to look like we love our home.

Sure there are some coffee mugs I just love and would be bummed if they broke. I have some favorite salt and pepper shakers and such but things break, and some you can fix, some you can't.

Last night my daughter had her go-to dessert, ice cream with chocolate syrup and sprinkles. I always ready the bowl but make sure she gets her own spoon.

She was enjoying her dessert and Netflix and then she came running into my room in full on hysterics. "Mom, I'm so sorry. Mom, it just fell and I just, I BROKE THE SPOON!"

There it was, a little headless puppy spoon in two pieces. I said completely calm, perhaps even deadpan, "Hey, it's fine. It's just a spoon. I'm not mad or upset, not even disappointed." She still wasn't completely calm. I then explained that accidents happen and the only way she would have been in trouble would have been if she hadn't told me or if she lied about it.

At first I was anxious and upset that she thought I would unleash the "momster," on her but I understood that I had warned her so often that things would break on the tile (because they will) that she had a fear about it, but also she is knowingly sensitive to when I raise my voice. Then I looked closer and realized we could probably glue it anyway, but regardless, it just wasn't worth the energy of getting mad.

She came back into my room to talk about it more and I just told her, it was fine. It was just stuff. It was just a broken spoon. Maybe it is all part of the priorities, the growth, the perspective, and the stuff I've been writing about this entire year, but sometimes it really is just a broken spoon. I've spent so much time and energy being mad about silly things and I now realize it was more a projection of my anger that my life was in such chaos and that I had no control, rather than being legitimately upset about the smaller things. 

What is that saying, "Don't sweat the small stuff?" Well I've spent years sweating! Now that I have a handle on things, it seems as though I can breath easier on such things and am far less balmy.

I understand my daughter's "fear of telling," the grown up. I was generally afraid of getting in trouble often. I can't pinpoint why; I don't even remember really being yelled at. My daughter seems to have that same sentiment. In younger years as I mom I would yell or overreact so things wouldn't fall down or she wouldn't get really hurt. After the car accident, I seem to have been taken down a peg or two in terms of that kind of anxiety. You learn and grow as a mom and you definitely pick your battles!

I told her not to be afraid of me and I appreciated her telling me and guess what? I Gorilla-glued the spoon. It is drying and I plan on surprising her. The whole incident felt blog-worthy as another example of just how things can evolve. Maybe 4 years ago I would have cried it out and felt such a loss of the nostalgic spoon, but even if I would have had to toss it, me and that spoon had a good run. 

I'm hoping I can keep this vibe going and translate it into other things as well. We'll see!

Just A Wish

My husband and I have been wrestling with the ferocity of our six and a half year old daughter lately and one of her current things is saying, "I wish I could..." Then, of course, I say "No" in total mom fashion, and she always retorts with , "No mom, I just WISH it, I'm not asking for it to happen."

I give her props because she technically isn't asking but has conveniently crafted a way to still ask for something without asking somehow. It is both obnoxious and impressive all at once. We're in that, "Mom, mom, mom, mommy, mom, mom, mom!," phase of daily life. We're also in the arguing is a new form of breathing routine. This too shall pass.

I hate being the mom that stomps on wishes but she's at the age now where she needs a little reality. I can hear my father's words uttered out of my mouth on a regular basis to chilling degrees now. "You eat what has been prepared for, like it or not." "We don't need to waste water/electricity/resources." "Those things cost money and we don't have enough for x,y,z." Sometimes I love that she knows these will be the responses. Sometimes I wish I could be the mom that didn't care about stuff like that, but I try to raise her to understand being frugal, grateful and aware.

When she says the whole, "I just wish," stuff, I try to be more gentle with my resounding "no." She often says this about wishing she could sleep in our room or get around some rule. She's too big for that now and no one actually sleeps when this happens. She wishes for a girl dog, well, keep wishing; she already has a dog and most kids don't. She just wishes for lots of toys? Ask Santa and we'll see. She wishes for extra dessert? Keep wishing while you eat your veggies.

I definitely never want to squash her hopes. She can hope and wish as much as she wants; that's what childhood should give you, but finding that balance in disciplinary boundaries gets more intense as they get older. Getting kids to listen, that is rough too, as they also need to feel heard.

Don't get me wrong, she is hopeful, fun, happy and she cracks me up. She's the light in my life and the best thing I've ever done, but parenting has daily, if not hourly challenges from time to time. Last weekend was a rough lesson in being more rigorous in guarding her and not getting too caught in the peer pressures and wishes of others. I have to do what's best for her as her mom, no matter what anyone else thinks.

Like me, my daughter needs a lot of down time. She's an active, go-to kid and she plays hard. She needs to rest hard too. I personally wish she wasn't as sensitive to this stuff as I am, but she is my kid after all. I'll keep the wishing theme going strong here!

I think the hardest part about the wish phase right now is that, she's old enough for a little more reality but still young enough that I don't want her to lose her whimsy. Last night she asked me about kid-nappers and people coming to get her and I didn't sugar coat it. I said, "Sometimes people can do bad things, but we need to not talk to strangers and if you feel you're in danger, go find someone you know. Go tell someone and you'll be okay." I then told her that anyone who tried to hurt her I would kick in the face, which made her laugh and lightened the mood. 

I wish I didn't have to bring her into the harsh light of the day at times, I wish she could stay little, innocent and trusting, but we all have to grow up at some point. Unfortunately some do so sooner than others. At the end of the day, even if it ends up in an argument, I always thank her for telling me her wishes and feelings. Even if it's a subversive way to ask for something else, I tell her I like hearing from her and love when she talks to me. I wish she would do that forever.

For now I'll let her wish as much as she can because as Disney has so ingrained in us:

And now I wish you all a happy weekend!

My Kid And Her Attachment To Routines

My daughter is 6 and a half going on 16. She is a sassy, fierce force and I love her even when she drives me crazy. Not unlike her mother, my kid finds great comfort and stability in her routines and not only do I feel as though this is completely normal, but necessary.

My daughter recently kept saying she was "confused" by her schedule. She can read. She has a calendar and she marks off her days. She's very smart, extremely outspoken and completely sassy. She negotiates A LOT. There is never a simple story or explanation. She talks A LOT. I have to be careful not to cut her off and stifle her and sometimes there is a fine line between disciplining her for not following directions, and let her say her piece.

It came up in conversation that I announced out loud that she is "Just that kid that is very attached to her routines and can have a hard time deviating from them, even when she's having fun, unfortunately." I regret saying that "unfortunately" because it felt like an "I'm sorry" that was unnecessary, which I'm working on doing much less of.

She's an incredibly sweet soul and very passionate about whatever it is she wants to talk about it. Her zen place is in front of any movie or series she can get into. She has just learned to harness the power of chill, quite well in fact.

We keep her busy, but she very much needs to know a layout of her day the night before or the day she wakes up to get a picture of how things will go. She could tell you her weekly school routine to the hour. She can have fun but "going with the flow," is not her forte. 

I try not to tell her, "not to cry" about stuff but rather, "Okay, I'm sorry you're upset, but instead of getting so overwhelmed how about we fix the issue or ask for help?" Sometimes it comes out as "That's not the appropriate response," if I'm on a shorter fuse.

I'm a true mama bear and I think most of the people who know my daughter best realize that she just needs a little more patience and consideration at times. She definitely presses buttons with talking back. She tests her boundaries often, but sometimes when she says these crazy things, I just am so happy she's mine.

I had the sobering realization this week that when you don't know me well, and you don't know my daughter much, she can be tough to deal with, but I actually take this in stride. If you spend an hour with me, and have a real conversation with me, my daughter is a breeze and hilarious. If you're one of my best friends, my daughter is my mini-me and a total trip to be around filled with love and wonder. If you don't really know us though, you're kind of missing out.

She has a lot of traits of my husband, don't get me wrong, but personality-wise our similarities are something else. It was yesterday I realized that I am unapologetic in how I parent, and about who my daughter is, even when she's a handful. Why? Because every teacher, after care leader, care-giver and adult says she does well in the general population, so if she saves her worst behavior for me, and her bad days for me, I'll gladly accept because I'm her mother.

I don't think she's really a handful, but I think she is very reactionary to her surroundings and if things are off the beaten path, or new or difficult or very different, she can have an issue navigating them well. Guess what? Me too.

I've had to train myself to handle things better but she's 6, she hasn't the capacity to do that, yet. One day she'll get there and I'll be right by her side. Yesterday I just realized that, I didn't care if she had a bad day or as my favorite phrase goes, "she's done with life," she's allowed to be a kid with all the feels, temperaments and attitudes so we can learn from each other.

I'm sure there are some ways I'm a mean mom. Much to my horror, I now regurgitate, on a weekly basis minimum, the words of my father, "I don't care if you like it, you'll eat what's put in front of you." This has haunted me and I still do it. Unless I'm deathly allergic, I eat whatever is in front of me, no matter how gross or unwanted. I ate a lot of whole baby mushrooms coated in salt to get me through my study abroad in London because I was so grateful my host mom even cooked for me.

So, when we go to restaurants and she orders for herself, just because it's different than her idea, doesn't mean you don't eat it and you get to sit there and complain. I told her just the other night, "This is why we don't go out to eat." It's not worth the stress and dropping $10 on kid food I will inevitable take with me for lunch at work.

I also don't buy her a bunch of useless junk even if she wants it. The worst parent ever. I don't always say yes. Where am I lenient? Technology. I don't have the energy to go on some soapbox about rotting her brain. Rot on kid, especially if it's a calm escape for you, or it lets you physically rest your non-stop little body.

My kid can be attached to her routines. I LOVE my routines and I don't care how old you are, change is hard. Just because I can take out my stress at the gym or with System of a Down on a car ride home, and she needs to scream about her bath temperature and talk back, doesn't make her beyond some backwards definition of normal. We all have our ways. As her mom, I'm supposed to negotiate those ways and nurture them, and if you don't like it, you don't have to be around us. There's a sorry not sorry for you!