"I don't love you."

I couldn't believe that Keira actually said those words to me.

"That's the meanest thing you've ever said. Ever."

I walked out of the bathroom, keeping a stoic face and going about the rest of my tidying up, while Felix went in to help Keira finish washing her hands. I had reminded her to do so after going potty, thus drawing her unexpected wrath.

I heard Felix murmuring to her but didn't really know what he was saying. He bundled her off to bed and then came out to sit with me, at which point I simply started bawling.

The tears actually caught me off guard. Keira's not even five yet. I knew she didn't really understand what she was saying. Yet I couldn't help it. Keira is my sweetheart, my baby, my buddy, my first...and her meanness stung me badly.

Today at work, I had a therapeutic emotion dump with my coworkers, as we reminisced about all the horrid, cruel, and angry things we had shouted at our own parents over the years. It helped me regain perspective. I love - no, I adore - Keira. But I need to remember that more than a mere friend, I am her mother and need to be the bigger person, the rock on which she can pound and scream and still find standing there, unwaveringly committed.

And so I brace myself for the years still to come. Because I know that Keira loves me, and of course, I love her, but I realize that my angel is going to zing me again...and again...and who knows how many times. So I've taken a deep breath and am readying myself. The bigger person. Keira's mom.