Laughter

My daughter and I had a wee spat last night. It was pretty basic stuff, beginning with her present tendency to find all aspects of her brother's corporeal presence unbearably irritating, and brought to an abrupt climax when she punched him to make her point. She put forth an impassioned defence based on the assertion that she was merely "swatting" him, swatting being a benign, non-punishable action completely different from the punch of which she was so unjustly accused. I, the implacable judge, pointed out that she was three feet away from me when she struck him, with a fist, hard enough to hurt, and no amount of semantics was going to commute the time out. She pronounced me the Worst Mother in the UNIVERSE, stalked to her room and dove under the bedcovers.

Normally at this point, I disengage. She grumbles for a few minutes, picks up a book, regains control, and all is well by the time she emerges. Nothing further said. Lately though, I've been increasingly aware that the golden age of my absolute authority is quickly winding to a close and the scary vortex of puberty is looming. I wondered if I could find a way to stay engaged in the middle of her anger, to do something wise and wonderful and Good Mother-ish to ease her way back to self-control. (And truthfully, there are some very good reasons why this is a particularly thorny challenge. Mainstream parenting advice works brilliantly on my son; on the girl - not so much.) 

I walked to the side of her bed. She shouted at me to go away, buried herself in the duvet, and I stood there, trying to imagine what I could say. What one of those really Good Mothers with the perma-smile and perfect children would say. (The intellectual comfort of a legitimate diagnosis doesn't stop me from judging myself against their scrubbed and polished soccer-mom perfection.) Totally blank. A minute went by, and still nothing. And then I had a completely childish impulse of my own to just stay there, quiet as a mouse, and see what might transpire.

The minutes ticked by. There was a little wiggling, and finally a curious face poked out to see what was going on. A moment of stunned silence... and then helpless giggles at the absurdity of the whole thing. She threw her arms around me and we laughed until the tears ran down our cheeks.

It was magic. I'm not sure why I feel compelled to write it down here, except that I want to mark the moment, remember that sometimes it can be this way.

Comments

[Leonie]

Oh that's beautiful. I hope you manage to keep that bond in the upcoming challenging years. It sounds like even though it may become hard work at points, it really will be worth it to maintain it.

[KateinIowa]

One of the best descriptions of unconditional, parental love I've heard in a long time. Hang in here! The best is yet to come!

[Gillian]

What a lovely conclusion! Well done.

[--Deb]

So sweet! And well worth recording for posterity.

[Deirdre]

Marking positive moments and clinging to them is an excellent way to work through adolescence, I'm finding...

[LaurieM]

Perfectly done.

I've had the same results with my son. I also believe they find comfort in a calm and loving presence.

[Anna Lee]

A wonderful moment to remember which puts great hope into every difficult moment that lies ahead. Laughter is a wonderful portrait of forgiveness especially when it comes from mutual love!

[Brenda]

SO perfectly priceless. Silence works way better than raising the voice.

[Susan S]

You're a great Mom.

[Debra]

To me that sounds like a great moment! Sometimes when there are no words, actions (or lack of) convey a whole world of words. :^)

[Cindy]

Sounds like you've already taught her how to get back to self-control! and by way - those perfect mothers and kids? They don't exist - it's just a myth so we can beat ourselves up. Thanks for sharing.

[random Cindy]

So heartening! Thank you for sharing.

[Charity]

Oh, it sounds awesome. Those moments are well worth marking down. Well done.

[Judy G.]

Hold on to that moment. It may not happen again. Sorry for being all doom and gloom and such.

[margene]

You had me reliving arguments with my mom. You did the unexpected and that created the perfect moment. The universe spoke through you. What a wonderful mother you are!

[Renna]

How utterly sweet, and what an ingenious way to defuse a volatile situation.

[Kerri]

I'm glad you had such a magical moment with the girl child - aren't those wonderful?! When my kiddies decide to have a melt-down, I sometimes wait for a brief pause in the drama and then interject with "please don't laugh...there's no laughing allowed"...and try as they might...they usually can't hold back the laughter for long. It's so much more pleasant than yelling! As for the "scrubbed and polished soccer-mom perfection"...hmmmm...are you reading Harlequin romances or looking at Norman Rockwell paintings!? ;) I'm a "soccer mom" and trust me...we're far from perfect and there is no such creature!!!! We all do the best we can...including you...and that's usually what's best for our offspring. Having said all that...those "tween", "pre-teen" and "teenage" years looming ahead are still looking a little scary!!! :D

[Cookie]

That was lovely and perfect. Well done!

[Stacy]

Most wonderful. we muddle through the best we can and you seem to be doing an admirable job.

[Susan]

Having raised three daughters I feel like an expert. If your teenage daughter thinks you are the worst, meanest mother in the world you are very probably doing a good job. My job was to raise them to be good, descent human beings, not to be their friends. Now that they are grown and married I do have a very good relationship with all three. Although there were times I wondered if I could give them back! :-) Of course, the grandchildren make it all worthwhile.

[Ros]

Sounds like you handled it beautifully. I'm not sure I could have been so gracious. But thank you for letting us share your moment.

[Barbara M.]

This is why I love to read blogs..... finding those magic moments in other people's lives reminds me to write down and remember the ones that are slipping by in my own life. Thanks for sharing.... I loved reading this.

[Marilyn G]

Oh (((Ruth))) I'm so glad I chose this entry to come back to your blog after a week or so of not checking it. I had tears in my eyes by the time I finished reading ... thanks so much for sharing that story.