I'm not going to lie. When I get mad, it feels really great to slam the door. I've done it since I was little. I think maybe I even broke a door off the hinges (gasp). The Lord has done some work with me since then - don't worry.
Which brings me to Paige.
For those who don't personally know Paige - I wish you could meet her.
For those who don't know Paige very well - you'll find this shocking.
She, at her wee age of 3, can slam doors better than I could ever dream of. Today, as I walked her into her room because she was screaming about something, I saw fire in her eyes. My usual routine is to take her in her room and make her throw her fit by herself. She usually ramps it up once I've put her in her room. Once I hear that she's quiet, I'll go in and ask her if she's done. I can be guaranteed her response is "no". To which she slams the door in my face and give out one more long, loud scream. With that, she exits her room and is usually her sweet self. It happens every time. But today - it was war. Before I could shut her in her room fast enough she looked at me with some fierce eyes, a red face, and let out the most passionate scream I've ever heard from her. And I've heard a lot of them. I will never forget that face. I went back to the living room and seriously thought - that girl can't be mine. She stayed in her room extra long, and I didn't go check on her at all. Finally after about 15 minutes she emerged in her dressy shoes, red sunglasses, and plethora of beads, and acted like nothing happened.
I decided, the next time I am having a bad day, maybe I need to try that.