Hosted my daughter's 8th birthday party this morning, and it was fun until she melted down completely at the end and turned into a spoiled brat. I'm feeling really down now, upset with her, sad, disappointed, feeling like I've raised a brat. Ok, so I'm feeling sorry for myself, I know, but, to change the subject entirely: A friend of mine on Facebook put up this poem by Langston Hughes the other day, post-inauguration, and it is too wonderful not to share. Hope you enjoy it.
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll sit at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--
I, too, am America.
-- Langston Hughes
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2 comments:
Hello,
Beautiful poem.
I can totally relate to your feelings about your eight-year-old. We hosted my sever-year-old daughter's party last weekend. The party went well, but her report card we received yesterday was a bit disconcerting. It definitely felt like an attack on my character.
I hope you're feeling better.
Do you need a relative to talk to? I'll be yours too if you want :-)
She's growing up into her own self. Being a girl, sometimes means being a brat. It's no reflection on how you've raised her. She'll have her moments, I'm just sorry it had to be her birthday. Hang in there.
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