I had started a little art project this weekend. It had been over a year since I have really done something creative, besides the sewing I had to do. I did a bit of collage and it took me three days, a bit here, some cutting and pasting there. Monday morning, I got busy with the finishing touches and found my daughter hovering around like a hawk around prey. She wanted to cut too. I told her I would finish and then we would do some cutting together.
This was much to her dislike.
A few minutes later I had to go into another room to check something out and by the time I returned, the Monster had taken my project and torn it up.
I gasped. I said nothing.
Lots of things went through my mind. I saw the project was irreparable. I didn't feel like starting over. I felt sad, frustrated, dissapointed.
Even though I had said no word, the Monster started crying. She knew whet she had done upset me. She had done it only out of frustration and anger that I wasn't immediately available when she needed me.
I held her and nursed her until she stopped crying. I told her I wasn't angry, just sad. That it hurt my feeling that she had torn up my project, but that didn't change my feelings for her. I still love her dearly.
Now I could have gotten mad at her, spanked her, given her a time out, screamed at her, whatever. I did no such thing. What's the use? My collage was ruined anyway and I could tell from the look she gave me she knew that what she had done was wrong.
A little bit of vandalism does not take away a mother's love.