"I'm sorry I was mad."

Snail's Pace Grace, we call her. At least when it is time to get ready for anything, most especially bedtime. Suddenly, everything becomes far more important than beginning the bedtime routine - petting the dog, cleaning between her toes, finding that book she lost 6 months ago, changing her doll's dress...

Such was the case tonight. I was flying solo tonight, trying to herd both kids through the routine. Isaac was an angel, as he almost always is, dutifully doing all his bedtime tasks with joy and delight.

Grace. Would. Not. Move.

After asking calmly several times, my asking got to be more like, well, yelling. When she finally decided she would go potty, I had already moved out of the bathroom, and so when she wanted help flushing the toilet and washing hands, she was devastated that I wouldn't help her. "These are called consequences!" I argued. "If you had come the first five times I asked you, I would still be in there to help you. Now you're on your own."

Tears were shed, snot was wiped. Everyone was mad. #bedtime

Finally everyone was in bed and we started sharing highs and lows from our day. Grace's low was, predictably, that I had been mad at her. After sharing, she instructed me that this was to be my low as well. No need to instruct, child. It was.

As I (finally) walked out the door, she said, "I'm sorry, mommy." I asked what she was sorry for, hoping she would say, "That I wasn't a good listener." But she said, "I'm sorry I was mad at you."

I'll be honest, it broke my heart. I don't want her to be sorry for having feelings. I don't want her to believe that having and expressing feelings is in any way not okay. I don't want to make her feel guilty for having feelings. In my exhaustion from a tumultuous bedtime, all I could come up with in response was, "I'm sorry bedtime didn't go as you hoped, Grace. I love you. Goodnight."

But really, I'm sorry for far more than that. I'm sorry that I didn't leave space for her to feel what she needed to feel. My most important learning from my chaplaincy internship was, "Let them feel." Whatever people need to feel, let them. Give them the space, the words, the validation that they need to get the emotion out - even if you perceive the source of that feeling to be ridiculous or unfounded. The source may be fake, but the feelings are very real. Never feel sorry for having feelings - feelings are what make us so beautifully human. In a world in which women are not allowed to feel mad (and men are not allowed to feel sad), I want my daughter to know that being mad is okay. She does not need to apologize for that.

Tomorrow I will tell her: Grace, I'm sorry that I did not give you space to feel mad. You go ahead and feel mad if you need to. I won't love you any less for that. In fact, I will love you more.