I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve apologized to my child.
And not just the “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to trip over you.” kind of apology since kids are always around your ankles.Â They’re kind of like cats that way, actually.
I’m talking real apologies.Â The ones that really matter to the heart.
I’ve got a temper, and I lose it most with the people I love.
When I lose it with people who aren’t in my family, I usually scare the pants off of them.
I don’t know why.
I guess I’m a little intense.
My kid is used to it by now; she doesn’t yelp in surprise.Â But it does dishearten her, upsets her, makes her sad.
It’s always when I am overwhelmed by something else in life and my child happens to be in the room when it happens.Â She pushes a tiny button that I can normally breath through and, instead, I lose my cool.
So I went and apologized.
When I entered the room in the half dark, she scurried to get herself back under the covers: to curl up in a ball of pity-me.
I sat down next to her and said “I just came to apologize.Â I shouldn’t have yelled the way I did.Â I’m sorry.Â You were just looking for your bunny and needed help.Â I’m sorry.Â I love you.”Â And she smiled and shrugged her shoulders and gave me a slobbery kiss.
I hope, given that she has my temper (and her dad’s too) that she will slowly learn fromÂ my mistakes so she will be angry at fewer people and with far less intensity.
Or, at the very least, she will know how to give a heart-felt apology.