It was not a good day. Not pleasant.
Night after night of under 5hrs sleep (a respite every third day is welcome), husband working full days (so spending little time with her and therefore me 24hr mothering), stressful work on the house (because some people are built to hear but not to listen), a day of her clinging and sticking and smothering...
Nausea, eyes doing funny things like closing while I'm standing, bowels knotted up.
Her determination and contrariness heightened. So I raise my voice and she raises her voice. Frowns are exchanged. The fire element in us both meet head to head. Sparks.
But throughout it never gets ugly. Nothing hurtful is said. No screaming. And I tell her, mama is not well today and not happy but I'm happy with you and I love you.
I love you too mami.
Kisses thrown about in-between the skirmishes.
Cuddles on the sofa. A moment where she seems to have intuited I absolutely needed quiet. Arms about each other we know a good shout is helpful and means nothing. We are of Latin blood after all.
Calmed, refreshed, we go outside to greet a sudden sun.