Being a parent is tough. There are no raises, promotions, titles, or year-end bonuses, so it's tough to figure out when to give yourself a pat on the back. I often find myself mired in the refereeing and daily trials of parenthood, just trying to get everyone fed, clothed, cleaned, and to their respective activities and schools. I am guilty too, of forgetting that I am not perfect, so why do I expect my kids to always be perfect? There's nothing wrong with setting the bar high, but within reason!
The last couple of weeks, I've had enough "huh" moments that I think I can say, with some small amount of certainty, that I might be doing something right. Not everything, for I am surely scarring them in ways that will take a therapist many thousands of dollars to un-do at some point in their futures, but something, which is better than nothing...
AJ (21 months): I sneezed this morning and he stopped what he was doing (running down the hall), looked at me and said, "Bess noo, Mama." Then he resumed his sprint, until the wall stopped him.
Nora (age 4): Cleaned my truck, because it was "dirty and she wanted to surprise me". Or should I say, cleaned the front grill and headlights, because that was all she could reach. With a scrub brush and half a bottle of Palmolive dumped into a beach bucket.
Brady (age 7): Used the word "gossamer" in a sentence, in the proper context. Seriously? Gossamer? Didn't that word go out of use in the 1700s? On a separate, but no less profound note (for him), he's made it through the first week of school, getting up at 6:30am, plus three nights of football camp (2 hours/evening in 100 degree heat) without whining, complaining, or having a meltdown.
Brennan (age 9): Gave me one of the highest nods a "tween" can: held my hand, gave me a kiss and a hug, and said "Love you, too" on her way into 4th grade orientation. It was also her idea that we stop by "GiGi's" house on our walks up in Michigan (I would have stopped in anyway, but thought it was sweet that Brennan said it first). How awesome is it that a 9 year old thinks her Great Grandma is fun to visit?
Of course, you may notice that "I" am taking all the credit for their affirmation of "my" outstanding parental abilities. I'll be happy to write the next post on all of Mark's bad habits they seem to be modelling....... ; )
Oh, that was just me again, forgetting that I am not perfect. Darn it!