My emotions ran the gamut today. It really started last night. Rick got mad at me over a scheduling snafu. I didn't (and still don't) see the big deal--We're parents. There are plenty of times that schedules are confusing and inconvenient and exhausting. I just roll with it. But for whatever reason, Rick was not in the mood to deal with it and he was in the mood to share his frustrations with me. Rick doesn't get mad at me very often, so when he does, it really throws me. To make matters worse, he was sound asleep when I got home, so there was unresolved conflict. Consequently, I got terrible sleep.

Then Sarah was a holy terror this morning. I'm not really sure what the problem was, but she would NOT get ready this morning. Just before Christmas break, I decided that I could get a whole lot more done in the mornings if she would dress herself. (Yes, I was still dressing my 7-year-old every morning! I know it makes her feel loved and like she's winning in this ridiculous competition she has going with Luke.)So, I made the announcement that she was a big girl now and she will start dressing herself starting in 2010. It's been a struggle to get her ready for school ever since. And this morning topped them all... She would not get herself dressed. I slapped her clothes onto her defiant little body at the last minute, threatening to spank her every time she gave me an ounce of grief. She was fairly cooperative.

Until we got in the car. She cried when I asked her to buckle up. She screamed at me until I turned the music down. Then she whined the rest of the way because I didn't turn the music all the way off. When we got to the school, she would not get out of the car. I had to park, drag her around the corner, spank her buns, drag her into school and leave her with her teacher. I went back outside through another door and saw her standing in the doorway of the cafeteria. I snuck out to the edge of the parking lot, ducked behind the hedge, and made my way to the van. By the time I got in the car, she was out on the sidewalk in front of the school. I half expected her to dart out into the parking lot and chase me down. As I pulled away, I saw her teacher approach her and knew she'd be fine. (Her teacher is one of the greatest ever!) But my heart was pounding and I was shaking as I drove Luke to pre-school.

I got to his school to find that the really nice director has been replaced by the mean, impatient teacher. I don't know what happened. It was such a sudden shift, it seems sketchy--like the director was fired. And the temporary replacement has been so rude, impatient and down right mean to the kids. For a fraction of a second, I considered applying to be the new director. Then I quickly thought better of it... If my kids were younger, I'd jump at the chance. But Luke's gonna be in Kindergarten next fall, so no more preschool for me... But now I have to decide--Keep him in that school or shop for a new school or bring him home with the sitter.

My morning was topped off by the smallest winner weigh in. I gained a pound. The skinny old lady weighing me in almost got a punch in the gut. She needed to just shut the hell up about her restricted caloric intake and 2lb gain herself... I cried the rest of my way to work.

The whole Sarah episode had me at my wits end and the extra pound just pushed me right over the edge. Last week I read that magazine article about sisters... If the relationship between sisters in complicated, the relationship between mother and daughter is down right incomprehensible! Sarah gets on my nerves like no other child. I have actually slapped her face! (It was horrible. I will NEVER do that again!)

Normally, Sarah is fairly helpful at home. She can always locate that elusive object the boys can't seem to find. She helps with laundry and dishes and cleaning. She loves to cook and bake. At school she's an absolute angel. She never gets into trouble, always gets compliments, earns lots of trips to the treasure chest, eats lunch in the class room regularly and is collecting Skittles at an almost alarming rate! She was proudly sharing with me one day that she has never gotten her name on the board. In one of my more sarcastic moments, I retorted with something like, "Oh, too bad we don't have a chalkboard at home!" She just knowingly smiled and giggled a little.

My biggest problem with Sarah is that she is so starved for attention all the time. She is always hungry--both for food and affection. It's disturbing and annoying and frustrating. It makes me feel smothered and guilty and concerned all at the same time. She is my constant shadow, which at times can be very helpful and comforting. She is learning great stuff about running a home--I hope. But sometimes her need to be near me is so demanding, I just want to shove her away and hide. And then I hate myself for wanting to run away from my own child. She obviously needs that reassurance, and my resistance just adds to her hunger. And I know I will miss it all when she's an obnoxious teenager. But right now I have a hard time giving her what she needs... Because I have 3 other kids, and a husband, and a job, and a dog, and a house to maintain, and an identity aside from being Sarah's mommy.

I had a close relationship with my mom growing up. It was just her and me. We were tight. Until I grew up. Then I realized that I've never really trusted my mom. She is mentally ill and always has been. I usually accept that she did the best she could, but I still can not allow myself much time in her presence--she's just not a healthy person. And I don't want this with my kids. I want to have a great relationship with my kids and their spouses and their kids. I worry --often-- that my kids will end thinking about me the way I think about my mom... OUCH!

My emotional roller coaster did a loop-d-loop this afternoon when the mail came. My other mother (the one I chose for myself, along with her six kids) sent a gift for my dead daughter's 13th birthday. She always remembers Marquel's birthday. And she always sends us something. A few years ago she started including Sarah in this exchange. She usually gets something for Marquel, knowing it will be used and enjoyed by Sarah. A decorative pillow. A stuffed animale. A jewelry box. She somehow knows this brings me comfort. It has always been my greatest fear that Marquel will be forgotten. Giving Sarah something in honor of her sister's memory keeps Marquel alive in our home, even more so than she always has been. This year Raydelle sent necklaces. One for me, one for Sarah that says "little sister" and one for Marquel that says "big sister".

There is a little part of me that worries what growing up in her older sister's shadow will do to Sarah, though I ususally feel like we manage it well. There's another part of me that is hurt that Raydelle is the only one outside my immediate family who acknowledges Marquel. I know my friends think of her, especially around her birthday, but my own mom has never even sent a card or anything in rememberance of my daughter. Mostly, though, my heart is full and grateful and humbled by the honor of being Marquel's and Sarah's mom. And I'm blessed to have a "mom" like Raydelle.