Today I was a shitty mom. There are days when I’m so consumed with my own world that I don’t stop to think about hers. She doesn’t throw tantrums, beg for my attention, cry or whine when she needs me anymore, so it’s easy to forget about her needs, or not realize when I’m being terse.
I yelled at her for something stupid, something that was actually the dog’s fault. For the first time in our almost eight years together she wouldn’t let me give her a hug. I listened through her bedroom door while she sobbed, trying to catch her breath. She let me come in, but wouldn’t speak to me or show me her face. An hour later, she let me sit on her bed while I flipped through one of her books. Before bed I apologized and she let me tuck her in, lie next to her and rub her back. She kissed my hand, and I smelled her sun-soaked hair as she dozed off.
She’s always been quick to forgive, just like me.