I feel so sorry for Zion. I know middle children often complain about getting the short-end of the stick when it comes to attention. She’s not even old enough to complain yet.
So I am complaining for her. I can do that.
Because I yearn to give it to her and find myself failing time after time.
Take last night for instance.
It was Mother/Daughter Night for Relief Society.
I was so looking forward to this night – until I pictured myself with both my girls.
Don’t get me wrong. I certainly LOVE them both. But one definitely requires more of my attention than the other. In fact, she sucks it from the other one.
And that makes me feel guilty.
As did the fact that I did not want to bring that little one with me.
Super guilty.
But Greg was taking Evan to a minor-league baseball game and didn’t want to deal with our “Taryn-monster” either. He said he was certain she would run away and get lost in the crowd. Nevermind the stroller with straps excuse I gave him.
So I rolled my eyes and conceded.
It was a Mother/Daughter night after all. It certainly wouldn’t be complete without both my girls.
But, as I predicted, it was in fact miserable with the Tarynator. She is just too busy. Too curious. Too active to sit quietly in a stroller and too quick to not run around wildly while out of one. And as a consequence – poor little Zion suffered. I didn’t have the time to do “Sparkle Toes” on her like I would have liked; I didn’t get to help her make her popsicle stick bracelet super “girly” like a 3-year-old’s bracelet should be; I didn’t get to hold her hand while we waited in line for pictures, or sit next to her during refreshments, or even stay long enough to play the games.
I’m so sorry Zion. I wish I were better at managing my time with you children. You each deserve all of me. And I’m afraid you’ve gotten the very least of me during your short little life.
Thank you Zion for being so patient. I will get this mothering-thing right just yet. {Hopefully, before you figure out how cheated you’ve been and lash out at me.}
Maybe, until then, let’s you and I go get an icecream sundae.
1 comment:
I get it. Totally. The first year of the mother/daughter campout, I left all four of my daughters AT HOME with Mike. Yep. Took my sister instead. I just didn't have it in me to eagle-eye all four of them in the wilderness. The next year, I decided to make a rule: You could go when you turned 8. Worked out perfectly! Old enough that I didn't have to worry every second, and old enough that we seriously had so much fun! Next year I'll be taking 3 of them with me and I'm looking forward to it--without feeling guilty for leaving someone behind, after all, it's the "rule." :)
I guess what I'm saying is don't feel guilty about not wanting to take a certain child to a certain event. Better SOMEONE enjoys themselves than no one. She'll grow out of it soon enough.
As a side-note, I've noticed that it's always the youngest child that seems to be the biggest burden. When (if) you have another baby, all of a sudden that "imposition" will fall on the youngest and it will no longer be Taryn. At least that's how it's been with all our kids. :)
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