I have a library book sitting on my end table called The Five Love Languages of Children. I haven't read it yet, and the due date is approaching. But tonight I realized I don't necessarily need to read it right now. My daughter's love language of Quality Time popped it's head a few times this weekend. Talk about making a mom feel bad. This is what she said at bedtime tonight. "Mommy, sometime can you and I play with my toys together just the two of us? When you're not busy with the little boys?" Talk about twisting a knife in my chest. Ouch! Okay, I hear her. Loud and clear. I admit it. Mommy gets busy. Mommy is easily distracted. Mommy has to teach a lot of piano lessons to attempt to help pay all of the bills. But this mommy, amidst all of my other responsibilities of the week, is setting one goal.
*Spend time with daughter. Play together.
She doesn't need me to even spend money on her. She just wants time and attention. Of course I will. And I'm sorry I don't do it as much as I should.
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