She throws herself down on the kitchen floor for the 4th time today.  It is 8am.  “Harlow, we’re going to eat breakfast–what would you like?,” I ask.  “nooo!” she sobs once more.

My day is already full–four days in a row, mornings such as these.

Would you like some yogurt? an orange?”  I’ll let her eat any of her favorites–just please, please stop the screams.

She looks at me with each question, frustration in her eyes, “nooooo!”  as she runs into my arms and puts her head on my shoulder.  I tell her how much I love her over, and over, and over again.

I can’t explain the tears streaming down her face.  I question every choice I’ve made as a mother.  What have I done wrong?  Why is she acting this way–treating me this way?

There is nothing she can do that will make me love her less, yet my  heart aches, wanting to help, wanting to erase whatever pain or frustration she is feeling.
I would do anything to bear it for her.

I’m beginning to understand when my mom tells me, “it doesn’t get any easier seeing tears on your child’s face.  Never.”

no, no, no!”

We go to the couch with her baby and a few books–perhaps some reading will ease things over, and we can eat breakfast in a bit.  Or skip breakfast and do something with a smile on our faces.  But the sobs continue.  The blatant no, the tears, the frustration.

I turn my body away from her, blinking to fight back the tears.

What am I doing wrong?  Where did my happy toddler go?

Every part of me wants to run to another room and cry.  I question my ability as a mom–I second guess every decision I’ve made to this point in time.

“Lord, why?  What can I do to lessen these tears?  How can I keep her frustration at bay?  Why does she blatantly disobey when I ask  something of her?

She is a child.

She is learning.

and she is just like you.

And that’s when the tears begin to fall.

I am that child in a perpetual state of the terrible twos.  Trying so desperately to gain a sense of control, as I see more and more of this world I live in.  “No!” I exclaim as I throw myself to the floor, as He reminds me of His love for me.

Yet there is nothing I can do to lose that love.  Nothing.


I am still a child.  I am still learning how to be loved.




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