Rebel...Suffer...Rebuild...Accept

So, my daughter was being bad last night.

We had subs for dinner and my beautiful little angel of a daughter was apparently not too hungry. So instead of saying "father, i do not feel like the submarine sandwich that you have provided me," she proceeded to spit out what she had in her mouth and throw the rest of her sandwich on the floor.

So I tried an experiment. Now, it is rare that I will even look cross eyed at the beauty that is my daughter, but this time, I was a little miffed. So, I gently took her little hand in mine and... At this point, I am searching for a word. Slap? No...not even nearly. Smack? Not even close. How about we go with "tap." So, I gently took her little hand in mine and gave it one tiny tap. Not even enough to make a noise...just enough for her to even feel the touch of my hand on hers.

Well, you would think the world had caved in, the sun had imploded, and hell had expelled the demons and let them lose upon the earth. OK...so maybe not THAT dramatic, but you can see where I'm going here. Her face crinkled and her eyes squoze shut and her little hands and arms came up in little balls of pure and unabashed sorrow and hurt. Tears came rolling down her little cheeks as her mouth twisted into a miniature mask of pain. The cries, a gutteral wail of emotion and longing for the days when everything was just so simple...so without the sorrow of the cold Winter longing for the Spring. I can go on and on (and apparently I do).

Now usually, if I do a little slap of the hand, this same thing happens and I break down and go to my child. I hold her close, tell her that daddy loves her and then we go on...even though the the behavior (thrown food, a beaten Blitz, a broken...thing, etc.) has just been essentially rewarded instead of punished. Well, this time, I just let it go...a little test to see what would happen next.

And here's where I lose you. Because all the mothers and fathers and anyone who has had to take care of a child in the long-term knows that the crying...the punishment crying, not the "my arm has fallen off and it stings a little" crying...will usually stop once they don't get the attention they are craving (but don't know they're craving). As happened with the love of my life that is Madelyn. As much as it killed me not to go to her and hold her tight, the crying stopped, and she ate some more of her dinner.

When we were done and starting to clean up, I asked her for a hug. And she came to me and gripped me tight like she now understood that tighter is better and that it feels really good to hug and be hugged.