Big Brown Eyes

They say the eyes are the windows into the soul.

I yelled at Penelope. It pains me to say it, but I did. I was working on a project and she wanted my attention. She immediately launched into a mega sized meltdown (which is very unusual for her, I might add) when I didn't respond to her. I stupidly insisted on one final step in my project before dealing with her. Not a good idea. Not good at all. What I thought was mega sized was the toned down version of the melt down to be. So I yelled. I raised my voice and said, "Stop! I can't take this!" I said that several times before I got up to attend to her.

This was not my proudest moment as a parent.

Other meltdowns are the result of not getting her way, but this was different. Her sad eyes said it all. I got up and took her into my arms and held her until her crying was down to a whimper. Every once in a while her big brown eyes would look into mine and she would say, "I need to cry, Mom. I need to cry." I heard my own heart crack.

I realized that she had asked me several times before the meltdown for attention, and I kept saying, "In a little bit." When I yelled at her the message I was sending her was, "Penelope, when you're acting like this, you are unlovable." In effect, I was placing conditions on her in order for her to be loved. I screwed up. (I have always said that I never wanted my kid to think I had it all together. I hate to think how well Penelope knows that already.)

I looked back into her sad eyes and I talked about how Mommy had screwed up. I asked if she would forgive me. Before I finished the question she said, "I fo-give you, Mom." And it was at that moment that I realized I had to tell her something.

I asked her to look right into my eyes. She did. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying so much, but still brown and sad. Then I said, "Penelope, I love you when you're happy. I love you when you're sad. I love you when you don't obey. I love you when you get mad. I love you always... Her eyes watered up again. I wanted to keep going, but she wrapped her little arms around me and pulled me in tight. She kissed my cheek that was damp from my own tears.

My hope was that my words, my love reached all the way to her gentle young soul and hugged away the hurt. From my eyes, I think she could see that I really meant it. From her eyes, I could tell that she got it.