I'm Sorry Little Bear

Hello Little Bear,

I'm not perfect. Check.
I'm not a perfect mother. Check.

Yesterday was Hell! I didn't feel good, and neither did you. When you were letting out these whiney squeals, though, it was easy to forget. It sounded like a bunch of mini-revolts or tantrums. But I reminded myself, throughout the day and inbetween doses of Tylenol and Advil, that your molars are coming in. I would forget and feel impatient, only to remember to look into your mouth. When you stepped on a small thorn and let out a squeal, it was the same sound you were making all day about your teeth. I could see the thorn. When I was reminded to look, I could see the teeth. What about when you're not feeling well and there's nothing to see? I made mental notes, several times yesterday, to trust you. Just as I want people to trust me, and believe me, when I say I'm in pain and yet there is nothing to "show" for it, I have to trust you. When I don't trust you, I'm dismissive, and a couple of times I said, "Honey!" in exasperation, thinking for a split second that you were "so clingy". Then I saw the hurt look in your eyes, and once you began to cry with the saddest sound, I knew I had added ot your pain by not believing you. I apologized to you a couple of times yesterday, for not being as understanding and patient as I should be. The minute I said I was sorry, and acknowledged what you were going through, and that it was real, you calmed down.

You deserve respect. It's harder to get when you're small. Hence, the parable and words: "Let the little children come unto me".

I'm glad you're feeling better today and that they've partly broken through--finally!

Love you