Everything in my daughter's behavior to this point indicated that she experienced one of those days. She walked through our door, after 1.5 hours at ballet, threw her backpack to the floor, and asked for hellp removing her boot. When I pulled the boot off, she hit the floor, tears popping into the corners of her eyes.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

"My foot."

"Did I hurt you when I pulled it off?" This is what happens when we have come through the worst part of the snow season without snow and with boots a size or two too small only to have it snow.

"Daddy didn't talk to me in the car. He doesn't talk to me. Out of the last 12 times I have seen him, 10 of those times he was on the phone or talking to you."

I rubbed her back and sat next to her on the floor. I never know what to say at such times. She often seems to accept her father without expectations. They laugh and play and have fun.

"Do you know who you need to talk to?"

"Daddy"

"Yes. Would you like to call him or send him an e-mail or leave him a message"

"No. I don't want to."

I looked at her, wanting so badly to make her feel better and knowing that I could not. "When I am mad at you or you are mad at me, what do we do?"

"Tell each other."

"Yes, we tell each other because that is the only way we can change things and help each other. Would you like to tell Daddy?"

"I will e-mail him."



*** She sent an e-mail to her dad telling him how she felt. "Would you like to hear what I wrote?"

"It is between you and Daddy. I will listen if you want to tell me. But it is okay if you don't want to tell me. It is between the two of you."

"I want you to hear it."

My 9 year old daughter then read to me the e-mail she drafted to her dad. Although the words touched my heart, my overwhelming sense was that my little girl is maturing in so many ways. This was the first time she stood up and told her dad how she felt - and she said it simply and plainly.