She suddenly looked up at me, big blue eyes, glistening, “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a really long day.”
I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brow to indicate I had no idea what she was talking about.”
She looked down sheepishly. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I’ve just had a long day.”
Quickly, and with a little amusement, I mentally reviewed this “really long day” for my not-yet-6-year-old.
This day was my first day back to work after a week vacation, but she still had the day off for teacher planning day following her spring break.
I let her sleep until the last possible minute. I even did her chores of feeding her dogs and fish. I let her have M&M cookies for breakfast. She came with me to work, and she quickly took over my office, the conference room, and eventually my boss’s office with her LalaLoopsies, markers, paper, tape, sand. Plenty of play on her tablet. Then, after work, she got a quick nap in the car on the way to dance. After dance, some running around on playground with friends. Tried out a new podcast on the way home, which she loved, then made plans to take the crazy dog for a walk. (We have 2 labs. One is old and calm. The other is only 2- that is the crazy dog.)
It was then she snapped.
Except, she really didn’t. I think she did yell at the dog, who was jumping, excited to see her, and briefly had a tone in her voice with me, that I called her on. For me, it was quickly forgotten. But as we walked with the dog, enjoying the weather and the discussion, it was bothering her- which brings me to the start.
I fought my natural inclination to respond with a sarcastic comment about wishing I had really long days like hers, and attended to HER feelings instead of mine. I thought about what I want when I am tired and irritable. I just want someone to hear me.
I brushed a wayward curl out of her face as I smiled at her. I acknowledged her really long day. I told her that when we got home we would eat and she could have a relaxing bath and then we would cuddle and read together before bedtime.