Forever A Loser

Today, I realized that I will forever be a loser in my daughter’s eyes. One day she will boldly exclaim, “LOSER” while forming her fingers in the shape of an L in front of her forehead, as I frequently did to my father as a teenager. Or she might adopt her father’s saying, “L for LOVE” meaning LOSER. And though she will be joking, there will be truth behind her words.

            On Saturday, Lucy unexpectedly declared that she wanted to spend the night at her Mi Ma and Pop Pop’s house (my parents). On Sunday, she requested permission to stay until today, Tuesday. At first, I felt a deep longing to keep her by my side. She had barely been gone for two hours and I missed her ceaseless chatter and never ending questions. As the quiet began to settle in I felt less sad, though I experienced the same nagging feeling I do when something is missing but I can’t wrap my brain around what is missing. That nagging feeling followed me both day and night during Lucy’s absence.

            However, as Lucy reported the fun she was having, the endless crafts, and three hours of building a fairy house; I was, admittedly, glad it was my mother spending hours of quality kid time with her and not me. My sense of relief was followed by an extreme sense of guilt.

            I am not a mother who enjoys endless crafts and tea parties. I do crafts and participate in tea parties because I feel it is my duty to do so. However, they are, quite frankly torture. I can only play out the same five minute scenario three or four times, a max of fifteen to twenty minutes, before I am crawling out of my own skin. My child’s possession of an extremely active imagination brings me joy. Having to participate in her imagination gives me a headache. I often say that my inner child must be dead because being 6 is not any fun. The torture I feel when participating in imaginary scenarios with my children fills me with the same sense of guilt I experienced this weekend when relief washed over me.

            My guilt, therefore, drove me to think of creative ways to interact with Lucy upon her return home. While out and about, I purchased a chalk paint kit, thinking of Lucy’s love of art and the outdoors. I imagined us painting unicorns on our driveway, her smiling, me feeling happy and content. I was obviously delusional.

            Upon her arrival home today, I surprised Lucy with the chalk paint. She looked at it, tried it once, did not receive the results she expected, and decided riding her scooter was far more enjoyable. I was upset. No, I was pissed. And then the realization that I am and always will be a loser hit me. I teared up then I came to peace with reality.

            When I say I am a loser, I mean I cannot win. When I try and surprise Lucy with things like chalk paint, she finds them “boring” or they do not meet her approval. However, if I cease to try because of Lucy’s lack of interest, she throws my frustration back in my face and claims I do not spend time with her; I never play with her; I love her sister more. The truth is that no matter how hard I try, no matter how much time I spend with Lucy, she always wants different or more.

            Therefore, this loser pledges to do her best, knowing that though I may ultimately lose, I will still hold out hope that I may yet experience a victory or two.