we've been hearing that a lot lately around here, "mommy! daddy! you are so mean! you never let us do anything!" (um, really? here's my super-long list of all the things you get to do.)
monrovia wrote this as a birthday note to matt last week, but the more i look at it, the more i think it works both ways. my daughters! we love you even when you are mean!
lately our girls swing between being so lovey and snuggly that i need to beg ruby to dis-attach herself from my leg to being furious at whatever perceived inequity just went down. (i'm so sorry that our house is not an amusement park, and that yes, you have to do your homework, pick up your dirty clothes off of the floor and throw them five feet away into the hamper, and be kind to your sibling and the humans around you.)
it's called growing up, i know. i moan about it to my mom and she nods knowingly and gives me one of those looks that translates into "yep, you did the exact same thing when you were their age."
my kids know it, my husband knows it, hopefully my friends know it: i will still you you when you are mean. (and can you love me back when i'm kind of a jerk too?)