- Henry spending time actually swimming in Higgens Lake, not just sleeping in the blowup rowboat.
- A trip assisted with a state map and my memory that resulted in us walking on the grounds of a cottage compound at Manistee Lake that my parents took us to when I was Willa's age. How's that for memory?
- Campfires, deer sightings, tent sleeping for some
It was a great week. I'm going to share one of my favorite moments now.
Willa cracked the glow sticks in the kitchen of the cottage, 5 seconds after I told her she couldn't have even one for that night. It was late, and time for bed. Her consequence was going to bed without stories read together. When I went to talk to her about it, she told me she would not love me anymore if I didn't read to her. I explained that her bad behavior earned this bad consequence, and that I was disappointed in her choice, but still loved her. She cried and cried.
While I was brushing my teeth, she knocked on the bathroom door, saying that she needed her inhaler (when she throws a tantrum, she goes big). Her wheezing calmed after 2 puffs.
She told me that what she had said earlier was right and that she didn't love me anymore.
I sighed, told her to go back to bed, and washed my hands. A minute later, she came back out and stood in front of me. "Mom? I'm sorry I said that," she mumbled, looking at her feet, "I do love you."
I picked her up, and brought her to the couch. I told her that once when I was an older kid, I was angry with my dad for something, and told him that I didn't love him anymore. When I told her that it really hurt his feelings, she started to sob. She held on tight and said she didn't know that she hurt my feelings. We both said we loved the other, "no matter what" and she went to bed.
I know that this was just an overtired five year old testing out feelings and words, but it kind of sucker punched my heart to hear her say she didn't love me anymore. I hope the reconciliation between my dad and I was just as sweet.