My dad's nickname for me growing up was "Princess".
Emily, age 6:
In third grade a girlfriend invited me to her birthday party. For her party they were going to the movie theater to see "Wayne's World". The only thing (or so I thought) that was standing in my way was that she had planned her party for a Wednesday night. I had Awana so I knew I couldn't go, but then, much to my delight, she changed the evening of her party so I could go. At least this is what I believed. But then my ever wise and caring parents stepped in and said that this particular movie was not appropriate for a group of third grade girls and I would not be allowed to go.
Oh the agony! I refused to go to school that day, this girl was going to hate me! She had changed her party for me and now I couldn't go, I couldn't face her! Oh the shame! The humiliation!
To those of you that know me, I know you might be a little shocked right now. Me, drama? I know, it's hard to fathom but it's true.
This is how I remember it. Mom, you could correct me or you could let me live under this delusion a while longer, I kind of like this story:
I didn't go to school that day but I had to stay in bed all day and that evening my mother presented me with this mug:
My darling daughter Hannah now drinks from this mug.
I wonder how many times my mom muttered under her breath, "I hope you have a daughter just like you." Now she just laughs when I tell her all the things that drive me nuts about the Fair Lady Hannah. Apparently I do have a daughter just like me.
So here's a new one Mom: the stall tactic.Was I good at this? More than any of my other children, Hannah is brilliant at this and she practices it a lot.
The other night right before bed, out of the blue, Hannah asked, "Why is God going to destroy this earth? Why is he going to take it all down and make it new?"
"Hannah, that is a discussion for another time, remember your question and we will discuss it later."
"But I want to know why he's going to get rid of this world? I kind of like it here."
Now I'm all for taking every opportunity to share truth with my children but this was very obviously a stalling question and she wasn't as interested as she claimed.
Some days I wonder how my mom survived my drama.
Some days I wonder how I survived my drama.
Some days I wonder how to survive Hannah's drama.
But then I remember to enjoy it; I think I'm turning out okay.
There's hope for Hannah yet.