The Snort

On Sunday afternoon, I failed in Motherhood. Big time. In a funny/terrible sort of way. I choose to rather laugh with my children and not "AT" them. But on this day, I failed. I laughed to her face. In fact, I snorted. Loudly.

She prayed at lunch time. I love it when she prays....her hands all folded up sweetly and her eyes pinched tightly shut. She started her precious prayer with "Dear God..."

I wish I could remember what the words were exactly so I could share it with you, but I cannot. She began talking to God like he was her best buddy...telling him something about something breaking and how she knew he could keep it from breaking. Like, absolutely NOTHING to do with the chili over rice steaming in front of us.

And then,

I SNORTED.

That snort changed the entire peaceful Uncle Arthur-ish setting in 2 seconds flat. I promise you I couldn't help it. As she was praying I fought to keep that bubbling, welling, surge of laughter from coming up my throat. But I could not.

I completely LOST it.

Poor little Georgianna. She whipped her chair back and immediately began to cry. she folded her arms and yelled,

"Don't laugh at me."

And half ran, half stomped up the stairs. with great big crocodile tears falling down her face.

And me?

What did I do?

I went into the entrance and leaned my head against the washing machine and tried to compose myself...

I laughed until I felt tears come to my eyes.

 

I Belly laughed. Like snorting laughter. AT my child.

 I went up the stairs to her bed to find her WEEPING in her daddy's arms.

 

"GET AWAY FROM ME!

YOU DON"T LIKE MY PRAYERS."

 

I mean seriously, I don't blame her for feeling that way. Good Grief. I had just SNORTED at her.

 

Eventually, after the dust had somewhat settled, and the tears had almost stopped, all three of us tromped back downstairs to our little lunch.

 

"I'M NOT PRAYING."

 

I wasn't laughing anymore. In fact, I felt terrible. I really do want to raise children with a healthy self esteem.

 

"I love you, Georgie."

"I love you too." (sniffltey, sniff.)

"Can you forgive me for laughing at me? I feel really bad. Really bad!!! You are just too cute. I'm so sorry!"

"Well, the little diva said, I have feelings too. (she waves her little hands in an Auntie Laura way.) I don't care if you laugh. That's not the problem. My heart feels hurt when you laugh AT me."

 

That was that. We finished our lunch and she went on to mix up desserts in her little outdoor kitchen and then to  teach dance lessons to her invisible students. It's a busy life being a kid.

 

I LOVE her. I will continue to try and laugh WITH my girlies. Not AT them. Ever again.