This too shall pass.
The phrase passed from generation to generation, words meant to soothe souls and convince adults that they will indeed survive parenthood without killing their offspring.
It’s used to dull the pain of countless nerve stripping phases of your brood. The screaming-through-the-night phase. The unending-diaper-changing years. The YOU-CAN’T-MAKE-ME, foot-stomping chapter.
One simple phrase intended to keep us from tearing our hair out or running wild in the streets. So far, so good.
Bear and I have struggled our way through a good number of “This too shall pass” stages. Now that she and I are roughly the same size it’s moved into the delightful area of wardrobe.
I should point out I’m not great at sharing. (I’m actually just beating BrightSide to the punch since he likes to mention it when I talk about the clothes and shoes thing.) It’s true, though – Bee and I were too far apart in age to borrow each other’s clothes, and I never really had a gal pal like that growing up. So for better or worse, my closet has always been my own.
Which means it’s been a bit of a stretch to have my ten-year-old daughter asking to borrow, well, everything.
It started out with my clothes, but that was easy to deflect since they were all too big for her. Once Bear began wearing my shoe size the requests moved on to footwear. Heels, flats, boots, sandals – everything was fair game, and every no was a mini battle. Finally it came down to how expensive the shoes were. Nice shoes were a no go, but I’d at least let her try on the inexpensive ones. I have to admit that her wide feet worked to my advantage there.
And now here we are. Bear’s practically looking me in the eye, and she considers my clothes fair game when it comes to begging and pleading. Unfortunately (for her), she hasn’t established the best track record when it comes to the concept of borrowing and returning items.
Shoes have gone missing for weeks while I pestered her for their return. Sweaters have ended up crumpled at the bottom of her hamper, left to fester until Bear finally remembered to bring the basket to the laundry room. Loaning the items is a leap of faith; harassing my daughter for their return is exhausting.
But like my pal Big D reminded me, this too shall pass.