I don’t know about you, but I remember a bunch of weird crap from when I was a kid. It’s so random – like, those 25 lb bags of carrots that my mom used to buy for us to snack on, and how I ate so many that I could see in the dark something fierce.
I have no idea what my kids are going to remember from this lushly weird childhood that we are giving them. I sure hope it’s going to be good stuff.
Like… I hope they remember how they enjoyed saying, “hi!” to each and every person as we waited to see the doctor – and how the faces of those that they greeted lit up in surprise and delight by their cheerful friendliness.
I hope they remember how much FUN they made each and every playground visit. How they ruled those small spaces and absolutely wrung out every bit of joy they could.
I hope they remember stopping to look at flowers with me. I hope they think of me when I’m old, and think of flowers.
Like I think of them and think of sunshine and bright light.
I hope their memories with one another blend together in a long stream of togetherness and solidify like colorful jello.
In the midst of all this, I hope they know I tried.
Most of the time, I feel like I’m herding, yelling, nourishing, dressing, praising, admonishing them. It’s like this endless –‘ing. I feel like “no” comes to my lips faster than any “yes” and that bothers me a lot.
I don’t want to be that kind of mother.
But I also don’t want my kids eating crap all day long while being tethered to some device.
“no”, “no”, “NO!”
I honestly try. I try to rise above my “no’s”, I try to get things going and keep them moving in a happy way. I don’t know if this will be the one thing that they will just happen to remember, you know? Like how I remember the bag of carrots from my own childhood.
At least I have Mikey around SOME of the time; at least I have him full time for 5 months of the year.
Then somehow we slip into these grooves – like, where the kids just seem to understand me (and I, them) so well – we are on this higher level of intuitiveness. We just seem to gel and I don’t have to actually say much anymore.
Like they are sponges dipped in water, soaking it up, soaking it up. And when I need it, they just pour it right back.