The hardest talk I ever had.....

This morning, I ended up having the hardest talk I ever had with my daughter.

My daughter and I have a relationship that can only be described as strained.  I see way too much of myself in her.  Even though there are parts of her that definitely resemble her father, I know that she is more like me than her father.

This morning was like any ordinary morning when school is in session.  The school year is well nearing its halfway point and the desire for a break is strong.  Usually, the complaints of being sick start rolling in and the begging to stay home for the day is at its highest.  I should know this all to well because I was her age once and I am no fool for the tricks for sympathy from Mom and Dad.  Sadly, my parents had some practice over this routine.  Being the youngest of 4 kids, I never had a fighting chance to fake an illness for a free day of watching TV and to be catered to.  My parents were smart when I figured they would be clueless.  Hey, it only took until I had a child of my own to realize how smart my parents were.

Well, as I confront DD with her "ailments" and hearing her pleas for a day off from school, an argument commences and I got to hear that all-too-well rehearsed ploy for sympathy.  Hearing her complain about how tough it is being a preteen and having such tough parents that tend to embarrass her.  Oh, how life is so rough!  I even asked if she was making excuses because of possible bullying.  Somehow, the morning news shared yet another story of a child being bullied to death... literally, and I wondered if that was the case.  The answer was a relieving... "no", but she does have an issue with boys staring at her with "goo-goo eyes" (as she coins it).  Other than that, she feels that she is fat and not popular.  I started to laugh and that is when the argument commences....  The competition of who had it worse being a preteen.

Something snapped in my head and I started telling her things that she should never be privy to, but somewhere in the rule book of parenting I proceed to tell her how her life is so much easier than mine.  Recalling the events of my 5 year stint of being bullied and how it took for a friend to be tormented after my ignoring the teases and taunts resulted in that bully finding a new victim made me snap and beat the living snot out of him finally ended the bullying once and for all...  Suddenly, letting out that little tidbit of my past opened the floodgates of all those terrible memories I have managed to suppress; the pain, the sadness, the disappointment.  Remembering that life is an endless battle for what you believe in and the constant need for love and respect.  Trying to come to terms that even though my life was no bed of roses, I start to remember how my Mom had things way rougher than I.  She is a survivor of child abuse.  As being a mother, we try to offer better than what we had as children.  Life is not supposed to be easy, but it can be better.  As the old saying goes....  Only the strong survive. The proof is in how you take on life's challenges.  I think she realized that is true from the surprise on her face at how hard things have been for me and how I seem to be so well adjusted with it all.  She must think I am some kind of robot to still be able to offer a smile and a kind word even after I get less than that from others.

As the childhood stories come pouring out, suddenly I am spewing out the misery that is happening in the present.  How my perceptions of what married life is supposed to be like becoming something completely the opposite.  The way I changed after getting married and becoming a parent resulting in a very lonely existence. How this once semi-confident person became needy of attention or at least recognition from the one I am married to.  The workaholic husband that prefers to stay away from home instead of being a part of the family dynamic.  The defiant child that thinks I do not understand anything and can be played as a fool.  My failed attempts of making everyone happy that is in my life.  My in-laws loathe me, but in a nice way (or so they think).  This list goes on and on...

Realizing that I am far weaker than I thought, I start to cry.  That is something I prefer to hide from everyone. Usually, I keep that kind of emotion under wraps; saving that for when nobody is looking.  It is far easier to put on a brave face and fight than become weak and cry.  As my father told me as a child that crying is a sign of weakness that people should never see, I feel that I even failed making my father proud today.

As I shared my disappointments in life with my daughter, I became that scared little girl standing in front of me.  Believe me, I know what she is going through.  I was there once.

Well, once all the dust settled from the morning events, I watched as my daughter tried to get ready for school.  Suddenly, I hear the gentle wheeze of her asthma flaring up.  I grabbed her hand, set up her nebulizer for a breathing treatment, called the doctor, made an appointment and called the school.....  My daughter is home sick today.