Saturday, January 2, 2010

Did you ever

while breathing deeply to remain calm in the very near face of a very loud tantrum; while staring patiently at your daughter and maintaining an expressionless face of your own; while speaking sympathetically to her disturbed plight but without absolving her wrongdoing; while wiping hot tears and noting the temporary red scars their paths trace along her cheeks; while maintaining resolve and calm despite feeling the crumbling of the walls that prop up your own mental sanity; while counting to ten inside and speaking pacifying platitudes outwardly; while thinking that if you knew this particular episode would carry on so long you would have initiated it on the couch instead of at the kitchen table; while wishing that someone could bring you a snack to sustain you; while objectively maintaining your privilege-revoking position; while looking at your daughter so closely for so long that she dissolves from the sum to the parts: the swinging pendulous thing in the back of her throat that you see with each wail, the new hairs at her hairline that are too short to have joined the crowds in her ponytails, the luscious black eyelashes propelling more anger marks down her soft cheeks, the eyes so blue, so wide, so aggrieved;

did you ever notice amongst those features, the angry flare of her nostrils? And that they are not entirely symmetrical?

I was just wondering if that ever happened to you. Pin It


LazyBones said...

You're on a roll--two amazing posts in a row!!!

6512 and growing said...

Very good noticing; you are learning the best tricks of motherhood.

Lisa said...

funny what we can discover when staring into the belly of the beast. My baby's nostrils are a little off too (discovered while holding her completely still for as long as possible as a finally sleeping newborn). The 3yr old, has a funny colick in the back of her head (a reverse combover of sorts - it grows forward).

Love them even more for it.

And you're stronger than I am - I walk away from those screaming sessions until she can calm down and speak clearly to me.

kate said...

the noticing, the details, the ability to pull back and see our little loves even in the midst of the crazy moments. This is the stuff that makes a life. Beautiful.