It sure can make a difference having an older girl around the house. I love my boys, my babies, and my husband, but they just don’t “get it” the way that almost-10-year-old Kateri does.
For example: This morning I checked the outdoor thermometer which was reading below zero for the one thousandth consecutive day, picked up Baby Gabrielle who was whining and pulling at my leg, and glanced at a stack of school papers waiting for my attention. I didn’t want to get dressed. I didn’t want to make breakfast. I didn’t want to even think about starting school work. I heaved a heavy sigh, looked at Kateri, and rolled my eyes.
“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes right back at me.
That was all I needed. Under similar circumstances, a man might try to analyze the situation, figure out what the problem was, and (of all annoying things!) try to solve my feelings. Because she is a girl, though, my darling daughter knew instinctively that I just needed someone to acknowledge and understand that I felt *blah.* All I needed in order to feel better was for someone else to recognize the *blah* and perhaps even relate to it to a bit. She “got it.” How wonderfully humanizing!