Courtney, will you accept this blog post?

January 20, 2009 at 12:03 am · Filed under family and tagged: drama, family, middle child syndrome, parenting or lack thereof, The Bachelor

Drama, drama, drama!  There’s drama everywhere I turn.

I watched the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER tonight.  Then followed with the most dramatic toddler meltdown ever.  But that changes daily.  Look out, Tuesday!

Sophie has rejected me the past few nights with whining and crying “I don’t want you Mom!  I want DADDD!”

DAD, DAD, DADDDD!  ARGGHH!  Dagger to the heart.  Oh, it stings.  But I realize that her little emotions (Oh, sweet child, you get it honest!) flip flop a bit like her attention span.  We made peace tonight after I told her that she was hurting my feelings and the way she was acting wasn’t very nice.  I’ve had this eerie feeling that she knows about my blog posts.  YIKES! 

For the record—and not at all because I think she knows what’s “really” going on here on this blog—Sophie says “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” quite a lot for a two-year-old.  She wakes up with a huge smile on her face and says, “I WAKED UP!”  She randomly tells me, “I love you, Mommy,” while holding her sweet hands on my face.  She says she’s sorry for odd things. (I’ll try and refrain from discussing her refusing to say she’s sorry for big things.)  She has the sweetest hugs and almost always says, “I missed you,” when we’ve been separated for any length of time.

There.  I feel better.  Now if she’ll only know I’ve posted this.

As for the “Mama drama”, I’ve felt it much since Cammie’s doctor’s appointment last week.  I apologize for the late update.  She does have precancer cells.  While I’m relieved that she does not technically have cervical cancer, I’m asking for continued prayer for her.  The idea that she had that appointment without her family close by was enough to break my heart.  She will be home February 6 and I can’t wait.

But just as I let out a sigh of relief from one drama, I open another bedroom door and discover more.  My heart aches for Courtney.  Our talk tonight after we watched the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER did not involve the melodramatic display that came from Sophie’s room.  (Nor did it look anything like the dramatic displays on The Bachelor tonight.)  But I’m certain that the emotions she is experiencing as a sixteen-year-old (almost sixteen…this Friday) high school girl are equivalent to Sophie’s outward display.  And probably equal to one or nine of the Bachelorettes.  But that’s another story.

While my heart aches for all of my girls tonight for very different reasons, the burden I feel for Courtney is heavy.  Courtney is a great kid.  Teenager, I mean.  She really is.  The kind of kid teenager that has a difficult time accepting the one B on her report card surrounded by all of those A’s.  The kind who isn’t happy with second best.  The kind who sets goals. The kind who is determined to live by her convictions.  The kind who doesn’t want drama.

The sad truth is, she will encounter drama.  It’s part of life.  She’s at an age where she is bombarded with temptations and opinions and strong personalities and tough choices and few role models.  And though I don’t like to put a lot of emphasize on it, she “is” the middle child.  It’s easy for me to overlook how hard she works.  Somewhere along the line it just sorta’ became “expected”.  And I hate that. 

She is sandwiched in between a demanding toddler and an older sister who not only overcame trying circumstances due to wrong choices, but set very high goals and triumphed mightily.  Perhaps because of her apparent confidence and outgoing nature she is often targeted.  And I’m not talking about her peers.  That would be expected.  But sadly, it’s often adults.  It’s gut-wrenching to notice others who seemingly purposefully set out to let one of your children know they prefer another over them.  To know that your child notices is even more painful.  Still, a higher standard is expected of Courtney.  And so it should be.  Her example is Christ.  And as her mother, I’m supposed to mirror Him. 

Woe to me.  Insert grace *here*.

Tonight, I wonder if Courtney has the impression that she who is the most dramatic gets the most attention.  I hope not.  I hope she knows the joy she brings.  I hope she knows that we don’t expect perfection from her.  I hope she knows that her every hurt matters.   I hope she knows how much we love her.

The Mama’s heart in me has ached for all three of my girls tonight.  But I’ve given this a lot of thought.

Tonight, I’d like to ask,

Courtney, will you accept this blog post?

I love you,

Mom

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