Monday, February 21, 2011

The sweet


One of the greatest things I've experienced as a parent has been watching my child learn to reason. It makes me feel like a good parent although I'm sure it doesn't have a lot to do with me at all.

Lately I've really been trying to enforce the "food ONLY at the table" rule. So the other day when Franky wanted to feed his sandwich to the dog eat his grapes on the couch I told him he would need to sit at the table if he wanted to eat. He contemplated this for several seconds as he weighed the choices in his head. A younger Franky would have thrown himself to the floor immediately in an attempt to assert his authority. But a more experienced Franky has learned that there are some things mom doesn't budge on. So after a few moments of reflection he exclaimed "alllllllllllriiiiiiiiiiiiiiight" and sauntered over to his seat at the table.

Another fun thing he's been doing lately is telling me "thank you" unprovoked. Except it actually sounds more like "tank ew". His favorite thing in the world lately is to stand at the sink and play in the running water. Usually when he asks me this I tell him no because it's kind of a big clean up job. At first I would try and control his splashing in an effort to keep everything in the kitchen from getting soaken wet. But it wasn't worth the hassle. So I finally decided that when he wants to do it, I just needs to let him go and clean up afterwards.

Anyways, he asked me if he could "pour the water" the other day and I immediately said yes since he had been such a good, sweet boy that morning. You would have thought I just told him he could eat candy for dinner for the rest of his life! In fact, several times at the sink he just looked up at me and yelled "tanks mom!"


Watching your children grow up is bittersweet. I guess this is what we refer to as "the sweet".

Love, ali

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Friday, February 4, 2011

Patience

There are days when I feel like super mom. I wake with a pep in my step and cook up a homemade breakfast of whole wheat pancakes and strawberries. With powdered sugar, because we like it like that. I keep the Ipod shuffling rather than the TV on. We build giant towers with blocks and make funny faces so the baby will laugh. We take long walks down to the fields and when you slip and fall in the mud I don’t even get frustrated. I just pick you up and wipe your tears and show you how to find rocks sticking out of the ground. My patience stretches into the evening hours as you begin pester me while I'm trying to make dinner. I stop what I'm doing and sit down on the kitchen floor so we can roll the ball back and forth. We read more than one book before bed just so I can hold you against my chest and smell your baby shampoo hair as we rock and rock.


But some days I am not patient. I expect more than should be expected of a two year old and I snap at you when you tell me “no” for the gazillionth time. I tell you that you are driving me bananas and put your in your room when you throw a tantrum instead of helping you to talk it out. And when I find you in the bathroom where you had discovered the Ajax and the dandruff shampoo in the unlocked cupboard, instead of being grateful you didn't ingest any of it I put you in your room and listen to you cry while I clean up the mess I made by not keeping a closer eye on you.


But honest to God, my good days outnumber my bad. Of all the things I've ever offered up to my Savior this constant refining of my mothering is most precious. It's almost enough to make me weep. I’m not perfect and I never will be but my love for you is unwavering and thick in my throat, even as I’m writing this. I am trying my very very best to be the kind of mother you deserve. A cozy respite from a cruel world. Your most passionate fan. Your most enthusiastic playmate. It takes a whole lot of patience right now. Maybe by the time you are teenagers, trying my patience in far more sinister ways I will have mastered the patience gig. Until then...



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love, mama