They say imitation is the highest form of flattery. I find it to be the most irritating form of flattery. Perhaps because it isn’t always very flattering. Often, in reality, it’s a mirror. And I don’t know anyone who looks at themselves in a mirror and declares the image is perfect.
For the most part, Emry can be a pretty even-keeled child. She’s always been fairly easy to deal with, listens to direction or explanation, and plays well with others. Of course, she’s five. She’s human. She has her buttons (which Ethan has known how to push from the moment he was born). And when she’s tired and something upsets her…well, the world better watch out. A drama queen is born.
With the days being nicer and my allowing her to play longer before going down for her rest, it seems the moments of drama are more frequent. And as I’m quite exhausted these days, my level of patience to deal with these breakdowns is shorter. That combination doesn’t work out well. On the other side of the coin, I often feel like I’m listening to myself 35 years ago. And wondering how my mother put up with it.
Emry can be very much like me. For her birthday, she received a “laptop”. Because all she wants to do is sit on her laptop and work like Mama. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad. Honestly, I’m not on my personal laptop much. But there are certainly days when I feel my work laptop is attached to my hip. When I have several projects on my desk, I can be a terrible work alcoholic. I know that often seeps into being a wife and mother. It’s something I don’t watch out for as much as I ought. And now I see it coming out in Emry who, if in a temper at bedtime, can cry as I put her to bed, “But, Mama, I just want to work on my laptop like you!”
It’s a terribly fine line. For I want my children to know the importance of work. I never want them to think they are entitled or that the government will gladly make up for their laziness. I want them to know that work comes first and play comes after. However, I truly don’t want them to think that work is everything, something to be done all hours of the day with nary a break. Something I can be guilty of at times. So, Emry’s cries are not very flattering.
The other recent lamentation from Emry has been, “But, Mama, I just want to be big! I’m the big sister!” Perhaps some of this is stemming from the eminent arrival of #3, but being a firstborn myself, most of it was born in her and is just now coming out. The need to grow up and be responsible before one’s time. The desire (and so often demanding) to be respected by the younger siblings. The idea that being the firstborn comes with certain duties that must be performed. I have been there. I am still there. And all of it has caused more harm than necessary. I don’t want her to grow up before her time. I want her to enjoy being a kid, something I was forever fighting. I want her to have good, friendly relationships with her younger siblings instead of seeming aloof and uninterested in their lives as I often still am. And while I am guilty of relying on her much more than Ethan, I don’t want her to think it’s because I have certain expectations of her versus of Ethan. (When the reality is it’s simply because I know she’ll fulfill the duty while I’m not even sure Ethan heard me.) Again, her cries are not flattering. They’re a terrible reminder of my failings.
The truth is I don’t want her to imitate me: I want her to be better than me. But, boy, do I need wisdom to help her! And lots of it.
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