I don’t know if you’ve noticed my blog posts have been a little depressed lately. I’m sorry for that. I’ve just been falling into one of my dumps lately. I’m feeling overwhelmed by life’s responsibilities. I’ve got three major projects I’m working on, too. Or I should say, trying to work on.
I guess I thought my daughter would love me.
I know she will one day. I mean, I know she loves me now, but she likes to make me think she doesn’t.
She lies. She constantly tells me she likes Daddy better.
When she was rude for the umpteenth time to me today I asked if she would speak to a friend like that.
“No, but I like my friends better than you.”
“OK, but that’s kind of rude to say. You should have some respect for your mother.”
“Well, I don’t. I respect my friends.”
“Do they take care of you? Will they buy you things and make you dinner?”
“No, but I like them better.”
I remember reading somewhere that it’s our jobs as parents to love our children, but not the child’s job to love us.
I believe this intellectually, but it hurts when I don’t feel love, or even like, from my five-year-old.