I Need A Drink; Or Maybe Just Some Patience

I could very well be the crabbiest person on the planet today.  I'm trying like heck to keep my cool.  So far I haven't blown a gasket at anyone.  So far...

It's a beautiful day in the Twin Cities.  The sun is shining, the humidity is low, AND I don't have to work tonight.  That's right, this bartender has this Friday night off!  "Why the heck are you so crabby then?!?!" you ask.  Sometimes, life just happens.

Don't get me wrong, I've not experienced any personal tradgedy.  All in all, things are great.  Sometimes, the little things just build up and this mama feels like exploding. 

My lovely daughter is turning 10 this month.  Those of you that have been around for awhile know that raising her has been a struggle.  While I have seen her grow and mature in so many ways, there are just some things I can't wrap my head around.

For one, as if it isn't bad enough that she loses and destroys her stuff, she has to do it with my and The Boy's stuff.  This afternoon, while she was cleaning out the backseat of my car, looking for her lost cell phone, I was getting ready to trim an overgrown mini-rosebush.  I go into my garage to get the necessary supplies (leather work gloves and a clipper) and discover my gloves (as well as the entire contents of the storage bin and the floor in the surrounding area) are COVERED in a fine white powder.  The Girl, of course, has no idea what the powder is or from where it came.  The clippers?  Well, they are painted a nice metallic, matte silver courtesey of the spray paint I purchased to paint my door bell cover.  This one she copped to.

While I know these things are small, it's just the very tip of the iceberg of crap that little girl pulls.  I am so tired of her lies and of her taking things that don't belong to her I could scream.  The clincher for me is that she still thinks I should buy and give her everything she wants and has no qualms telling me how awful I am for not doing so.

I understand kids will be kids.  I also know that behaviors like these are consistent with her diagnosis.  As the summer winds down and these things accumulate, the knowledge doesn't help my patience.  I'm frustrated, overwhelmed, and sad that I don't enjoy my time with my daughter.  Part of me is jealous of my girlfriends with daughters.  I long for the loving, close relationship my girlfriends have with their girls.  I long to take my daughter shopping for the day, or to spend the day at the beach together.  These seemingly simple things are huge undertakings with her and often turn out disasterous.

I can only hope it will be as her therapist suggests.  As she gets older and grows in maturity, she will learn to control her impulses.  Hopefully, with continued therapy she will learn the benefits of telling the truth and of honesty.  Hopefully.  Until then, I will look at my beautiful girl, longing for the mother/daughter relationship we don't have and praying that God's plan will someday make sense.

The Girl in Wisconsin, meeting June from 3! A Charm