"Even when you act naughty, I still love you"
It's what I say numerous times a day, after time-outs, after a temper tantrum. It's a reminder that whatever she does, good or bad, she is still loved and cherished. There are times I'll start that sentence to her and end with "I still what Camille" and as if she has been trained, she immediately repeats "You still love me". You wonder what they're absorbing. You wonder if it's just something they repeat back but is meaningless to them.
Today was just one of those days, or afternoons I guess I should say. The day itself, though busy and hectic went relatively well. Camille went along with game plan for our Monday: 4 month check for Rosemary, some grocery shopping and then some play in the pool. But as if she had pent up all her misbehaviour, it all spilled over with a simple 5 minute warning for lunch. She just couldn't take it and continued what seemed like a blood curdling scream from outside, to me swiftly lifting her up out of the pool and to her room. She finally did calm down, and with much much persuasion, she took a nap. She woke up in good spirits. No screaming from her room, no frustration at a toy, just quiet play until quiet time was over with. Quiet indeed, because when I opened her door to release her, I saw what had kept her occupied for that extra half hour. Both drawers of clothes, that once had been neatly folded, now lay scattered all over the floor.
"I can play them with though, Mama"
Yes, she can. She can try on a few outfits, mix match a few shirts and skirts, but not completely empty out both drawers, that's not the deal we made.
"Go make Rosemary laugh Camille, Mama needs a moment"
She went, and came back.
"She laughed Mama"
Still puffing and stewing as I fold and fold and fold.
"Go make her laugh again Camille. Mama is very frustrated with you right now. You fought to take a nap and screamed at me. That was not nice. You then tore apart both drawers, that's not how we treat our things. Mama is very frustrated right now, please go make Rosemary laugh again"
Walking over mounds of Capri's and skirt's, with her arms wide open she comes closer to me, almost tripping, she wraps those little arms around me, lays her sweet soft head on my shoulders and whispers:
"But you still love me Mama"
She absorbs, she hears me, it's not meaningless.
"That's right my precious one, Mama still loves you"