Our poor dishwasher door really takes a beating. From the time Josiah could crawl, he wanted to be up on top of it. And lately, Lorien has been following his lead.
It's not unusual for me to say, "We don't sit (or stand) on the dishwasher door" a dozen times while loading or unloading. Usually it's directed at Destructo Boy and involves physically removing him from his perch. Tonight, though, it was directed at Lorien and I raised my voice a bit.
She lost it. (Like her mama, my girl is stubborn, but tender, and sometimes she really crumbles at a reprimand.) Even after I hugged her and apologized, she couldn't pull it back together. And then she spent the next 15 minutes asking, "What did you tell me not to do?" I quickly figured out that she was referring to something that had happened earlier this evening, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was she was talking about. Let's just say we were really getting on each others' nerves.
Finally she told me: "You told me not to yell in the house."
Ah. Now I get it.
"Are you upset because I told you not to yell, but then I yelled at you?"
And then she was better.
And I was humbled, but so proud of her. Because I want my actions to match my words. And I want my kids to be able to point it out to me when they don't.
I'm thankful for this girl with her sensitive spirit.