Brought to You by the Letter "C", and the Number "5".

Inspired from my friend's title the other day, I had to use it today for myself. My grocery list caught my eye the other day, when I realized everything on it began with the letter C. I mean, it was getting kind of weird, so I decided to add a couple other things. But before I did, this was what was on my list:

coffee
chicken
carrots
celery
cabbage
croutons
craisins
corn
cheese
cottage cheese (double c's...score!)

Is something wrong with my brain?

And, oh, my emotional 5 year old. It's not always like this, but if my daughter was 15, I'd think she was PMSing. This morning I thought I never hear the end of the drama.

First it was her eyes.

5 yr. old: Mommy, my eyes hurt.

me: Well, don't rub them, they'll just get worse.

5 yr old: They really hurt. (still rubbing)

me: Sweetie, you've got to stop rubbing them. It will only make them hurt more. You're being too rough on them. You have to be gentle with your eyes. They're very valuable to your body. (who know's why i said "valuable" but whatever)

5 yr old: WHY??? They can't break!! They can't fall out!!! (screaming through tears)

me: But by rubbing so hard, you're making them more sore. You're irritating them so much that they'll start to burn.

5 yr old: I CAN'T! (still screaming and crying) They really hurt!!! They're burning!!! They hurt so bad they feel like they're bleeding!!!

me: Ok. Well, we're at the park. Should we stay and play with your friends, or should we go home and do hot compresses?

5 yr old: Stay at the park. (stopping the rubbing and the crying) Ugghhh, I think I had an eyelash in them.

me: Uh huh. Probably so.

Then later the drama was over leaving the park.

5 yr old: Why do we have to leave the park?

me: Because it's time to go home and have lunch and take rests.

5 yr old: But why can't we stay longer? (starting with the high pitch whiny voice) They're staying longer! Why can't we??

me: Sweetie, you and your brother are very hungry and very tired, and it's time to go home and have lunch and naps.

5 yr old: I don't want to take a nap. That's boring!! I HATE THIS!! (she's been using this word lately like a curse word - very emphatically, and with so much emotion)

me: (looking at her with warning) Watch it.

5 yr old: (sobbing and screaming) I don't want to go home. I NEVER want to leave. I want to live at the park!!! I want to live at the park!!! This is the WORST day ever!!!

me: (thinking - seriously? Is this for real a conversation I'm having?) (speaking very calmly) We have a park right down the street from our house. We don't live that far from the park.

5 yr old: (enraged) NOT THAT PARK!!!! I want to live at THAT park!

me: Well, we couldn't really live at the park. (trying to bring reason into the conversation) Where would our beds be? And where would our food go? We have to live in a house, not the park.

5 yr old: (acting like I'm the one being irrational) MOMMY!!! I'm saying that we could LIVE in a HOUSE at that park. So that we wouldn't have to leave right now. You could just walk home and get lunch. Then we could stay LONGER!!

me: Ohhhh. Well, even if we lived at that park, we'd still go home for lunch and rests.

It went on a little bit longer. Not the yelling, but the crying. Oh, the tears. And I knew she just needed to let it out. But once we got home, I held her and rocked her while she cried for a while longer.

Thankfully, she is not this dramatic everyday. Some days, but not every day. I know that most of it is being too tired. Or just having a day where everything bothers her, and nothing goes right. And I feel like that sometimes, too. So, even though I was tempted to tell her to cut it out, and to not be so irrational, I want to be a mom who encourages her to be able to feel. Even when it's irrational. To let out her emotions in an appropriate setting, without hurting herself and others. I want to love her even when she's a basketcase. Because I know I'm loved like that by my Father. I know that He patiently listens to my crazy thoughts and feelings. He waits while I have my tantrums about whatever it is I'm going through. Then, He waits for me to run to Him. Then He holds me and tells me that He loves me. And He never tells me to shut up, and get it together. He lets me fall apart, and still be loved just as much.

My prayer is that one day, she'll run to His arms, not mine, and be filled with a love that's bigger than mine could ever be. Until that day, my arms and lap are ready and waiting.