Sunday, January 15, 2012

queen brat

Funny, my eight  year old Elizabeth (in the middle of the picture) is naturally funny. It could be that she lives with teenagers and has a sense of humor that is a bit sarcastic, but it could also be she has a gift for timing.

The other day she was following me around like a lost puppy. She was being annoying and complaining about what I cant remember. I'm not even sure what I was doing, getting dinner probably. Finally as she followed me to the table underfoot and whining in my ear I told her.... 'You know Elizabeth, you're being a brat. A royal brat, you are being the princess of all brats.' to which she promptly replied, 'Well then that would make you, the Queen!'.....then proceeded to giggle her head off.

Thinking it was funny, and it was, I put it on facebook. I have never had such response to a post, which at first made me think, she 'really is funny'. But then I realized it was at my expense. My brother who doesn't respond to emails, never comments on my posts...ever...like really, never ever responds. He comments, my parents comment, old friends comment. It bugged me, really bugged me. Facebook is really a place for bragging and posting great pictures of family events, not cyberbullying. I have a  page to check up on my big kids and  to share, not really to  hear what people say. It keeps me in touch with far away friends and relatives. But I guess the people who Im keeping in touch with dont really think Im as great as I do. bummer.

 One post about my imperfection and they come out of the woodwork. I spent a lot of time alone as a child. My mother separated the two of us to ensure no conflict. My brother who never interacts on facebook from across the country...well he never interacted as a child. He read, he watched monster movies, and told me I was a brat. We live in the woods and I was bored. Yea, I was a little bratty with no one to play with. Isn't funny no matter how old you get, the buttons stay in the same place?

So, in her humor she struck a chord. I can't change the kid I was. That lonely little girl grew up to be the Queen of a large family. Not a Queen Brat. Out of that solitude came a desire for a family of faith that was a community. We  have it,  no sterility here,  no lonliness here. We have noise and laughing, conflict and resolution. We have a Domestic Church to the fullest extent.  Being a brat became a blessing.

Just so you know, she really isnt a brat. She's a blessing and she's awfully funny.

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