Thou shall take pleasure in the small things

Last week I was grocery shopping by myself and I heard a child whining to his mother.  A smile spread across my face and I immediately felt a little happier.  Not because the child was upset, but for the purely selfish reason that I did not have to do anything to make him happy.  I did not have to get a snack, or a drink, or make funny faces, or anything.  This upset child (for once!) was not my problem.  I realize this is not a normal reaction, but I can’t help it.  That was not the first time someone else’s whining child has made me smile and I’m sure it won’t be the last.


I also enjoy some of the more traditional  parts of parenting.  Lucas also likes to read about five books before bedtime. Recently he decided to have me sit down on his floor, while he sits in the rocking chair and reads me Brown Bear, Brown Bear What do you See? This book is repetitive and has pictures, so it is easy for him to "read" to me.  When he finishes reading it he gives himself a round of applause and says "yay!"  He also claps and celebrates when songs end, like he is always at a concert.


It's easy to get caught up in the day to day and not stop to enjoy the small things.  We all do take time to enjoy birthdays and hitting milestones, but not always the everyday occurrences, like the pure joy a child experiences when you read him bedtime stories. Every time my niece thinks something is really funny she gives a belly laugh that fills up the whole room and usually makes everyone around her laugh too.  I'm choosing to laugh when I find a ring of dirt around Luke's neck or find a years supply of blocks under the couch. Those are the moments that are easy to miss, but make each day worth it.

Thou shall enjoy the terrible two's

As I write this there is a little giggle behind me, demanding "daddy, do that again" in slightly jumbled English.  It is easy to forget the temper tantrum he had just a half hour ago because he did not want to eat his noodles for dinner.  Luke didn't want to eat his peas or noodles, so we told him he couldn't watch The Wiggles tonight.  As a result it has been one of the most fun evenings we have had in a while.  Luke is laughing and playing with us and the house is a total disaster.  Some punishment that turned out to be.  We had one incident when he tried to feed his Woody doll some grapes, but we are trying to teach him to share... right?

Luke has asked "what that?" at least 100 times tonight. He asks three times before I even have a chance to answer him the first time. He has played basketball, hidden from us in his tent, kissed my boo boo and asked that daddy read him his bedtime stories, he even said "not mommy read it."  Watching his personality develop is the most amazing experience I have ever had.  He drives me crazy, he makes me laugh, he makes me smile and he has taught me what it is really like to love someone unconditionally. Some people call it the terrible two's, and sometimes it is, but the tantrums and fits are all worth it to hear a tiny voice say "I love you" and kiss you good night.

Thou shall not feel guilty over mismatched pajamas

As a mother, there is a seemingly endless list of things to beat yourself up about.  I have the good fortune of being someone who carries guilt around forever.  In my attempt not to pass this trait on to my son – which I would never be able to forgive myself for – I have been trying really hard to put things in perspective.

I noticed that when I spent evenings after work frantically cleaning my house and getting ready for the next morning, and I would feel guilty for not playing with my son, during the few hours we do have together.  So I started to wait until Luke went to bed to do all the chores and then I had no time for myself and time with my husband.  One night when I was searching for the green monkey pajama shirt to go with the matching shorts he had on and I found them in the hamper,  I realized that my son sleeps just as peacefully in a surfboard shirt and monkey shorts as he does in matching jammies.  My babysitter did not even comment when we showed up at her house, fresh out of bed with his hair in complete disarray and wearing mismatched pajamas.  And although my four year old niece would disagree, there is no major difference between clothes and pajamas. It is definitely better to let the laundry pile up than to waste playtime with my toddler. 

This may sound like common sense to some people, but I had to be coached not to feel bad about not knowing what was wrong with my infant son when he was crying. I think telling him that the TV is broken to avoid having to watch yet another episode of “The Wiggles” is a forgivable offense. But I have to remind myself that it is ok to feel angry, or sad, or overwhelmed, as long as I don’t take it out on Lucas.  I’m not cured, but I’m doing much better. The Catholic guilt will always be a part of me, but I am learning to control it so my son is not so neurotic.  I may not be perfect, but I am doing my best, and that allows me to sleep peacefully - most of the time. 

Thou shall not shake thy baby

This one seems like a no brainer, but today it was my mantra.  Luke and I had a wonderful day together yesterday and I was not expecting him to wake up this morning acting like a totally different child. He slept in a little later than usual, then I made him waffles just like he requested, then he turned into a monster.  I had planned to run a few errands this morning and he planned to throw tantrums.  He threw a tantrum about eating his breakfast; he wanted to go to the “cookie store”.  All would have been well, but Luke’s crazy mother was making unreasonable demands, like eat your waffles before we get a cookie at publix.  The fast forward version of my morning was several tantrums, including while I was sweeping the kitchen floor and it was his turn to use the broom, “more cookie!!”, “my binky!”, “ No!”, and total panic when I gave him some watermelon for a snack. After he finished eating my snack and demanding chips, we left for our last errand.  His irresponsible mother only brought him water (like he asked for) not milk, queue the next tantrum in the car. I kept reminding myself that I love this child and this imposter child that looks like mine will go away eventually.  He fell asleep for his nap early, which was fortunate for both of us. 

This morning was the exception, Luke is usually a great kid, but it is hard to remember that when I am stressed out before I finish my coffee. Speaking of beverages, is noon too early for some wine?