Conrad and his dad set forth to write a novel based on a prompt. Each developed it as he saw fit and felt inspired. The novel I translated for Conrad, called Exolegacy, had this prompt of “memory.”  

I personally write as I go, living life, inspired to write as my kids ask questions or certain events influence my parenting approach. 

Lighthearted and perceptive, I go with the flow, often feeling like I have no control over this gift of writing. I do aspire to get better, to hone this gift. But over time I realized that trying to control it in every detail only makes it lose its depth and originality. 

My eldest daughter is outspoken and stubborn. I cried quite a few tears caused by her sharp tongue. She asks a million question and I got used to it. We found our rhythm together. My youngest daughter is soft like breeze, a gentle kiss, kind and attentive. She purposefully asks fewer questions and she doesn’t want to inconvenience me or others. Once she put too much spicy oil on her pasta and still trued to eat it but couldn’t. I took her last bite and nearly choked on spice. I asked her why she didn’t tell me it’s too spicy. She said she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I got down on my knee, looked her in the eyes and told her she has permission to hurt my feelings, to tell me the truth, to tell me how she feels. I can take it. I’m her mom and I love her no matter what. A few days later she said: “mom, you told me I can offend you if I need to tell you something. Well, the pasta sauce was too salty for me.” 

Two sisters. Beautiful and gifted and brave, but so different in their personalities. It is my duty to see them, to meet them where they are, to help them embrace their own gifts. 

The one I fought more with, I wrestled, I pushed she pushed back, and in this back and forth I got to love her. Like her. Connect with her.

I am aware of the danger of being more disconnected from the daughter who trues too hard to please me. I either don’t see her, or if I do she is leaning into a warm suffocating hug. 

I have the power to set the tone. To speak directly, her language. Challenge her to challenge me. I don’t receive feedback right away from her. I’m not sure she heard me. But I’m comitet to finding my groove, my balance and my space with her as well. The eldest asked for her rights. My youngest in her politeness may miss out on some blessings. The blessings of a good tug of war.