I’m telling you, this parenting thing can give you whiplash sometimes, can’t it?
This morning, after setting up this blog which has been so long in coming, I sat down with my cup of coffee to write the first official entry of this blog. I was going to call it “Pride”. I was going to talk about how I had just received the greatest compliment from my 9 year old daughter that I had ever gotten, probably in my whole life. It meant the world to me. It meant that she was growing up, that she was gaining perspective, that she recognized and appreciated my gifts, and as she ran back out the door to play with neighbors, a dicey problem resolved (or well on its way), my heart swelled and my eyes filled.
Fifteen minutes later, she was back inside. No, it hadn’t fallen apart outside, it was a natural evolution, kids had places to go. It was even all set, she would go back in an hour and a half. She seemed fine.
And that’s when I got rear-ended at 60 mph. It became clear that the conversation, the one that had gone so well, the one she had complimented me for, had somehow faded entirely from consciousness. She made it clear that when she went back in an hour and a half, maybe the other party(ies) would have changed their minds (and by minds, she means personalities). And by her description, she clearly meant that they would have changed their minds sufficiently to be entirely different people that would, coincidentally, be more in line with how she has decided they should be. She also made it clear that the forgiveness and the problem solving and the understanding that was so transparent and powerful and heartfelt only a quarter of an hour prior was either forgotten or was somehow a ruse. Sure had me fooled, and I’m good at this stuff.
All in the course of 15 minutes. Whap! Ow!
I’m thinking of inventing one of those car headrest things that are supposed to prevent whiplash–is that what they’re called, headrests?–that sit on your shoulders and strap on so you can wear them around. Kinda a combination of this:
and this:
I’m thinking I could make a bundle selling ’em to moms (especially since they’ll be oh-so attractive!). Anybody want in?
