Davita, having just tacked a black sheet to her doorframe as a curtain, and dancing about with joy, “Oh, Mama–I just LOVE my bedroom! Life is SO WONDERFUL! It is the BEST bedroom in the whole world! There’s nothing about my bedroom that would ever make it better unless it had a balcony! And YOU AND I could watch the sunrise together every single morning FORVER while drinking tea! I’m so HAPPY that you and I are together! You’re the BEST mommy! If only I had a BALCONY!”
Of course, this is the same chid who last night wept hot tears while wailing, “NOTHING is right! EVERYTHING is always wrong! My room is wrong, my bed is not a good bed, I’m always too hot or too cold and you NEVER understand EVER what I am saying! You ALWAYS tell me I have to go to BED AT NIGHT and you NEVER UNDERSTAND that I feel like I DON’T WANT TO GO TO BED and then you MAKE ME BE IN MY ROOM and I just feel like you don’t understand me and why can’t you read another chapter of Anne of Green Gables–waaaaaaahhhhhhh!”
Don’t mind me. I’m just over here parenting an exact replica of myself.