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Last night Dave and I watched as Emme — 22 months — tried to put on her own shirt.
As cute as it was, it was a frustrating experience for ALL of us. Mainly because Emme kept trying to stick her head in the neck hole first, rather than go up through the big waist part of the shirt. I can see her point. She was thinking, this is where my head goes. But it doesn’t work that way. And she kept trying and trying and failing and failing.
And, she would not let us help her. Every time I reached over and tried to just show her the right way — she furrowed her brow (a trait she inherited from her father….) and frowned, jerked the shirt away, and continued to try to put her head in the wrong way. So, I sat on my hands. Finally, even Dave couldn’t take it anymore and he tried to just SHOW her the way to be successful and she actually shoved him away and said, NO ( a trait she inherited from her mother!)!
So, we both sat on our hands.
And as I sat there and watched her it struck me that we were experiencing a microcosm of parenting that we would face for the rest of our lives. It is nearly torture to watch your child try their best and fail — especially when you know… YOU KNOW… how to help them, how to reach over, turn the shirt around and just hand it back to them so they can do it! You are not trying to take over, just help, for the love of God! But she insisted on doing it herself…wrong.
And that is what we get to do over and over. We watch our kids try and refuse our help and fail. They insist that they know better than us — or that they can do it themselves — or that they don’t need us. And we have so sit there saying, “Please let me help you, I can’t stand to watch this!” But they GET to do it themselves. We GET to wait, watch, pray, and lose sleep.
Finally, Emme solved the problem. She switched to a different shirt. One that buttoned up the front. She put it on and then… and then…. asked Daddy to button up the front.
Thank God.
When it came time to graduate from Grad school, we needed a host or two for the program that my cohort was putting on to celebrate getting our Master in Teaching degrees. So, my friend Sarah and I decided, heck, we can host this thing — and so we took on the MC duties . We introduced the skits, the speakers, you get the idea. We were awesome. Professionals, really. But we were left out of one key piece to the puzzle. A small group of fellow grads wanted to give out awards — you know, “Most Inspirational” “Most Improved” things like that. We were not allowed to know the awards as we were included on the awards list.
But that didn’t sit well with us at all. So, we cheated. We went out for drinks one night at this wonderful place right on Puget Sound (Ray’s Boathouse Cafe for those of you in the area). And as the sun was setting over the water we were able to hold up the sealed envelope and read what we had been awarded. I didn’t like what I found. Probably because I am a cheater.
I was awarded “Most Effecient.” Seriously? That is about as sexy as a lump of coal. Especially in light of the fact that the man whom I would later marry was awarded “Most Charismatic.” Bah humbug. Efficient. Hey there, if you need something accomplished with a minimum of effort? With the fewest possible resources consumed? In a well-organized way? CALL ME…here is my number. Like I said, sexy as coal.
But it wasn’t long until I decided to embrace my efficiency. I think I came to realize that others saw something in me that I had yet to see in myself. When I was growing up I would loathe it when I was carrying groceries in from the car and my mom would say, “you may need to take two trips…” Uh, no, I do not take two trips, I would think to myself and shake my head at the ridiculous nature of that suggestion. Two trips? Whatever. Instead, I would load up 7 bags on each arm, creating red welts in my skin. But I only took one trip. So, maybe I did deserve the award.
Nowadays my efficiency looks more like getting all 7 of us to a location on time and with the required equipment. It means buying Christmas gifts in February. It means figuring out the fastest driving route to any location I may need to visit. Afterall, I only have so much energy and so I must use it very wisely.
My gift has grown with me, one could argue.
So, today I took it one step farther. I received a special notice in the mail from our local energy utility. They wrote me to inform me that I am WAY more efficient than my most efficient neighbors. I got two – count them — two smiley faces and was awarded the title of GREAT at being energy efficient. That my most efficient neighbors consume 1,593 something-rathers and my household of SEVEN only consumes 1,163. And I am even more energy efficient than I was last year.
Snap. Take that. No one who was awarded “Most Charismatic” ever got a letter from Puget Sound Energy.
Look who is sexy now….
Oh, and turn off your lights, why don’t ya?
Yesterday was our first snow of the year.
I had been longing for snow since last week. I usually don’t like snow because in these parts the whole city shuts down and goes a little nuts.
This year, however, I have been looking forward to the snow. For a lot of the reasons. And ALL of them selfsih. I have just been longing for a break from “real life” — a forced work haltage (is haltage a word??), hot chocolate, spiced wine, movie day, etc. I spent the weekend stocking the fridge just in case there was snow. I made a final trip to get Jade a winter coat and Lily snow boots. I have been ready for days for snow.
So when the flakes waited until 7:30am to start falling I have to admit I was a little disappointed — the snow was beautiful but it came to late to halt school and offer me the respite I so longed for, and so off the teens went all bundled up. I then spent the next part of the morning trying –unsuccessfully — to get Ty to wear snow boots to kindergarten. “But, Mommy, they feel weird!” That is because they are snow boots and you only wear them about 3 days each year. You will get used to them. No luck and on went the sneakers. The outside temperature read 26 degress and so I gritted my teeth as I walked out the door to take Lily and Ty to school (by the way, Lily did wear her snowboots…). The moment we walked outside I heard a GASP.
The gasp came from Emme. In all the bustle of the morning I had forgotten that this was her first snow ever. She stopped, looked up, smiled her big authentic, “I love life” smile, and pointed at all the flakes and rattled off her paragraph of gibberish that makes perfect sense only to her. But this time it was pretty clear what she was saying: Snow is awesome. Followed by: Why have you waited this long to show me this. Then: Isn’t life amazing, mom?
As the first flake got caught in her long lashes I thought about all that she has yet to discover. And how lucky we moms are to re-discover so much through the eyes of our children. We get to see so much for the first time all over again. Watch as our children’s eye light up at their first Halloween, or eat their first tast of ice cream, or pet their first puppy. Then we get to see them make their first goals in soccer, or play their first wobbly rendition of “Go Tell Aunt Rhodie” in elementary band. We get to see them have their first dates, fall in love, read Shakespeare.
And we get to sit in horror as they cry because their friends didn’t walk home with them. Or they didn’t make the goal. We watch as they come to terms with the fact that life isn’t fair. Or Just. And that many people don’t know the meaning of mercy or compassion. And I swear that if I could I would stand in the gap for all five of my kids and take all the crap for them. Just suck it in to my body and let it destroy me in order to spare them.
But I know that is not how it works. Even though I get to watch their journey, their road to discover is all their own.
So, TODAY I will decide instead to find the patience to let them struggle with the lumpy snowboots and to marvel at the snowflakes in their eyelashes as they discover the world for themselves — and for me, all over again.
My son is obsessed with Hot Chocolate. He has not had any since last winter and when he saw me come home with a box of Swiss Miss and a bag of marshmellows, he became focused on having that first yummy mug of cholately goodness.
It is a well known fact that Ty can negotiate just about anything. A friend and neighbor announced recently that he planned on having Ty — age five — negotiate the re-fi’s on his mortgage. I have to have nerves of steel and a heckofa line in the sand when Ty sets his sights on something. And recently he set his sights on that box of Swiss Miss and that bag of marshmellows.
For days now he has been asking me about the weather report. It took me a while to figure out why. His angle? Rainy, wet, or even snowy weather equals….Hot Chocolate. But I once I was onto him I could tell him, hey, it is not quite cold enough yet! He then turned to the “others” he figured would cave in or at least didn’t know the rules. He asked babysitters and friends for hot chocolate. Nope. No luck.
Driving home from school Monday afternoon he told me, Ah Mommy, I am soooooooooo cold.
I was distracted by a garbage truck and the rain. Ah honey, I am so sorry. What can we do to warm you up?
You see it coming, don’t you? Well, I didn’t. Moment of weakness, I guess.
I need Hot Chocolate. He says in his sweetest, I love you mommy, voice. So, I answered with the good ol’ mother standby. Let me think about it.
He smilled and then actually cackled. Because, basically, he knew he had me at “I’ll think about it.”
An hour later, out came the tea kettle. Out came the mashmellows. Out came the Swiss Miss. I even got out the whole milk.
Okay, bud, I said. You can have the hot chocolate on one condition. You have to let me take your picture while you drink it.
I am pretty sure that his internal dialoge goes something like this… “SUCKAAHHHH!”
I am doomed, aren’t I???
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