*Mila* is beside me in the office drawing pictures at her desk. She's unbelievably artistic and I don't just say that because I am her genetic mother. She really is. She's not yet 4 (2 weeks to go today) and look at this picture. She drew herself outside of her house waving at everyone. This was before I taught her to do the friendly wave that all small town folk know well. Something that I genuinely miss about living in a larger centre. I miss driving downtown and having people wave at you. It's like they really care. "Hey! There's Miss Willow! I went to school with her. I think I'll wave hello." There were/are a few wackos in my hometown that would just wave at people, like every people person. If you didn't wave back they would drive around in their half-ton trucks and wave furiously at you until you waved back and if you still refused to wave, they would peel out and give you the middle finger for your viewing pleasure. These type of people belong in the Psych Ward and should not be sucking power from the local chicken joint's commissary.
We started our day off not to well and I think that sometimes it is that dimness or darkness that really lets the light shine in. *Mila* is really a wonderful little girl and I let her moodiness and pouts get the better of me. Actually I let the screaming, crying, kicking and punching get the better of me. I was like her too. I was worse than her. I threw my ski boot through a window when it slid off the back of my skinny ankles. No footwear was ever comfortable on me. Skates too were thrown. I survived (and no longer have skinny ankles) and am ashamed of a lot, or all, of the fits I had. My parents still seem to love me and have even sent mysterious money in the mail for me when I needed it for many, many years. Relatively speaking, she's not that bad. I blame myself for everything that goes wrong in a single 24-hour period. No parent is perfect and no day is perfect. We can only make the best of what we are given. And when in doubt, go to IKEA let your vegetarian child stuff herself with hot dogs and buy items that you won't remember when you get home from the shopping amnesia that you suffer from. When your husband asks your daughter over the phone, "What did mom get at IKEA" be sure to prompt your daughter to reply "a TULLSTA and a JARPEN". This only works if your husband is not of Swedish descent.
signed, the willow
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