Dear Eliza, One day when you are a little older and we have had a spat over a boy, or a curfew.. or whatever the day has brought us, I hope you google my name to make fun of your sooo uncool mom and come across this post.
Because tonight, my sweetheart, you gave me the first real taste of your sass. Wow.. it truly shocked me sweetie. I mean, I really was trying to help you clean your room.. hopefully I find someway of teaching you that I won't do it for you but am happy to help. Obviously I haven't figured that one out yet or taught you to be clean enough to this point. I promise to work harder on that, ok? Will you promise to not slam the door in my face anymore? Cause while I pride myself on how I have come to let hate mail and unproductive criticism slide off my back, your little 8 year old body slamming that door behind me cuts like a knife. But again.. I may just not have taught you well enough to channel your emotions. Let's work on that too, ok?
So if you stumble upon this little note a few years from now, know that on this night, I snuck back into your room and tucked you in. I kissed your tear stained cheeks and told you I loved you. And in your unconscience state, you whispered "I love you too.."
I will try extra hard to remember that these years we have together while you are a child are so short, and losing tempers or fighting is just a waste of those precious moments we have.
Good night, Sweetheart.