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Children and demons: is there a difference?

I'm a fairly dramatic woman with two fairly dramatic daughters; I've been waiting for, "I hate you," and, "You're the worst mom ever!" But my 9-year-old, Lily, caught me off guard a couple of weeks ago with this gem, "We used to be so close, Mommy. What happened?"

I swear it all went down in slow motion--the end of everything. There was no reason to get out of bed or brush my teeth or watch TV. There was no reason to go on living. I putzed around the house aimlessly. I picked a fight with my husband.

I cried all day until Lily got home from school, and I asked her what she was thinking.  

She told me we drifted apart shortly after her sister was born.

"Ever since Ashlyn was born I've felt this way."

"Well, that was five years ago," I told her. "You don't think we've been close for five years?"

She shook her head.

"LILY! OH, LILY!" My heart was screaming.

Ashlyn saw that I was sad, and asked if she could brush my hair and make me feel better.

"I suppose."

I sat on my bed while Ashlyn pulled and tore at my hair from every direction. She hopped down and ran around to face me. She brushed my bangs away from my forehead and examined my face for a couple of minutes.

"Mamma," she said. "I just hate your bangs so much. You look prettier without them."

There were no appropriate words to convey my emotions at that moment. I was quite upset.

AND THEN without skipping a beat they asked me, "Mommy, when will you be done with our Halloween costumes?"



"Ugly, aloof Mommy doesn't feel like making your Halloween costumes anymore."

I didn't really say that, but I wanted to--demon brats.


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