“You Don’t Love Me”

You don’t love me!”
How many times have you kids laid that one on you?
And how many times have you, as a parent, resisted the urge to tell them how much?
Someday, when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a mother, I’ll tell them.
I loved you enough to bug you ahout where you were going, with whom, and what time you would get home.
I loved you enough to insist you buy a bike with your own money that we could afford and you couldn’t.
I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover your handpicked friend was a creep.
I loved you enough to make you return a Milky Way with a bite out of it to a drugstore and confess, “I stole this.”
I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned you bedroom, a job that would have taken me fifteen minutes.
I loved you enough to say,”Yes, you can go to Disney World on Mother’s Day.”
I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, disgust and tears in my eyes.
I loved you enough not to make excuses for your lack of respect or your bad manners.
I loved you enough to admit that I was wrong and ask your forgiveness.
I loved you enough to ignore “what every other mother” did or said.
I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall, hurt and fall.
I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for your own actions, at six, ten, or sixteen.
I loved you enough to figure you would lie about the party being chapertoned, but forgave you for it….after discovering I was right.
I loved you enough to shove you off my lap, let go of your hand, be mute to your pleas….so that you had to stand alone.
I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, not what I wanted you to be.
But most of all. I loved you enough to say no when you hated me for it. That was the hardest part of all.