Saturday, March 17, 2012

When Your Kid Hates You

Last week, Little Miss Pushing Five had a lot to say for herself.  The following is an excerpt from a conversation between her and the little sister:

"Who's your favourite grown up?  Mine is Daddy.  He's my favourite grown-up."

And then on a day when they were both home with me:

"Mom, I don't like days with you.  I like days with Daddy.  He's my best Dad."

None of this is a shock.  She's just never verbalised her dislike for me so clearly.  In all honesty, I have never felt the connection with my first born that other people seem to have with their children.  From the time she was a baby, it felt like she wasn't mine, like she belonged to someone else.  I thought it might have somthing to do with the fact that she is the spitting image of her father--which is great because I like him and think he's pretty cute--but maybe it would take me awhile to feel close to her because she looked nothing like me.  But time went on, and still I never felt that bond that I was waiting for.  When her sister was born, I felt a much stronger connection from birth, but I chalked it up to being a second time mother and not having that deer-in-headlights thing that some new moms have about them. 

Don't read this the wrong way though, I do love the kid.  I love the kid like crazy.  We were together 24/7 until it was time for her to start school.  I panic when she is ill, I cry when her feelings are hurt, I make sure she eats her vegetables, has clean comfy clothes, a warm bed and lots of toys.  When she is hurt, it's usually me she comes running to for comfort and a Bandaid.  I tell her I love her all the time, to the point where she tells me to stop telling her because she already knows and won't forget.

And it's great that she is Daddy's girl, because every little girl deserves that.  But the cold hard truth is, I've been a shit mom, and she's trying to let me know that in her perfect little girl way.  I only hope I can go up from here, be a better mom, better person.  The yelling has to go, the impatience, the irritation, the moodiness.  I can give her a better legacy than teaching her how to be a shit mom and a weak woman.  Because she's watching me, she's made that clear, and she is taking in everything I do. 

And I want to be her best Mom.