Crying and screaming was coming from the direction of my daughters’ shared bedroom. I ran down the hall, in no big hurry, to investigate. Because really, crying and screaming from my daughters’ shared bedroom was quite normal around here.

When I walked into their room, I found them both tear-streaked and red-faced. They were having a tug-of-war cat fight over a cute black t-shirt. Each girl was screaming at the other, laying claim to this shirt which really, was about to become a dish rag if this tugging didn’t end.

My oldest, announcing shrilly, that her Mom had just bought it for her. My youngest, crying, sure that it was the same black shirt that I had just bought her. Both of them were right. They did, indeed, each have the same black t-shirt from the same store. But keeping in mind the discrepancy of their sizes, one would have been a small and the other, medium.

I decided that it was time to risk my life, and break this fight up. So, I grabbed the t-shirt and ran out of their room leaving the two, still crying and screaming. But this time, it was directed accusingly at me. After checking the size of the shirt and confirming which of the girls it belonged to, I brought it back and handed it to my youngest daughter.
This made my oldest daughter start sobbing like her heart was being ripped from her chest.

“How come you always buy stuff for her but you never buy stuff for me?” she hiccup-ly sobbed, barely choking out those words.

I thought about it for a minute, before replying. “Honey. Every time you leave our house, you come home with a bag FULL of clothing. It seems like everyone buys you clothes. Your dresser is so full.” I responded. Calm. Patiently.

“You just love her more than me,” she cried piteously and threw herself onto her bed, sobbing.

“Oh, that’s just not true,” I reassured, sitting next to her and petting her back. “It’s just, I’m the only one that she has who buys clothes for her. It seems that everyone is taking care of you and your brother. I’m so sorry, my love. You know it has nothing to do with how I feel about you!”

“I have NO clothes. None. Nothing fits. Nothing matches!” she screamed, hysterically. Not believing her, I checked her drawers. And I realized, that all this shopping that everyone seems to be doing for her, she has no clothes.
So the very next morning. I took my youngest to pre-school and I high tailed it to the mall where I bought my weight (which is A LOT) in clothing for this kid who thought she had nothing. Not even my love.

And boy, is she so wrong on both accounts.

Which leads me to realize, truly, how precariously balanced love seems in a blended family setting. And whether or not an action is done through love or necessity, the non-recipients are sitting with hurt and wounded feelings. And to me, that is THE MOST difficult part regarding the preservation of emotions in this type of family. I’m sure as the kids get older, they will recognize more the truths in the fairness of actions versus the injustices.

Photo Credit: Pink Sherbet on Flickr