After endless viewing of Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs over the past month, my youngest said to me, “I can’t wait for Daddy to come home and give me a kiss. He’s my true love. I love you, too, mom, but you’re more like a dwarf.”

She’s cute and she’s four, so I didn’t think much of it, but really, do I have to be a dwarf? After all, I suffered through endless years of trying to conceive this child, endured horrible morning sickness, and then survived months and months of bed rest. Now she views me as a dwarf?

It left me wondering, Which dwarf does she think I am?

Sneezy? I was pretty sick last weekend and I did do a lot of sneezing, but normally I’m a pretty healthy gal. I don’t think it was Sneezy she was thinking of when she labeled me a dwarf.

Bashful? Not a chance.

Dopey? I do struggle to help my third-grader with math, but I doubt she notices my scholastic downfalls … yet.

Sleepy? Hmm…she might have me here. After all, she has been my personal alarm clock for the past four years.

Doc? I’ve performed surgery on her Barbies when she rips off an arm or head by accident. I’ve also placed a Band-aid on nearly every inch of her precious, soft toddler skin over the years. (She’s accident prone and fearless – not a good combo.) I’d be happy with the title of Doc, but I really doubt my daughter pictures me as a vertically challenged medical professional.

So, by process of elimination that only leaves Happy or Grumpy. Hmm…Can I cross my fingers and hope for Happy?

It’s easy to reflect on the past few weeks and remember all of the times when I was less than patient or a little irritable with my children. It’s harder for any mom to pat herself on the back for all of her other victories – the times she didn’t lose her patience but instead took a deep breath, or when she spent time playing a game together, or reading a book or snuggling. It’s easy to focus on the times when we’re not at our best instead of cutting ourselves some slack and realizing we won’t be judged for one or two weak moments, but instead on the collective job we’ve done.

I’ll settle for being a dwarf any day if I can be seen as Happy in my daughter’s eyes. After all, she could have said I was The Evil Queen.