Along with several family members, Josh and I took the kids to see a holiday children’s play on Friday night. Linnea sat between me and Josh, perched atop a booster seat in a red Santa-inspired velvet dress that her great-grandmother had bought for her. As the production started, I stole a glance at her sweet face, eyes shining wide in the dark, taking in the costumes, the song and dance. Heart swelling with holiday-inspired joy, my gaze went back to the stage.
The next time I looked her way, I caught Linnea nibbling on her ticket stub—enough that large chunks were missing. My hushed attempts at correcting her paper-ingesting behavior were met with enthusiastic speech that exceeded theater-going limits. Stub confiscation was necessary, but thankfully, she was interested enough in the bear on stage that a more elaborate power struggle was avoided.
*****
This afternoon, Linnea asked me to take a bath with her.
“Sure,” I thought. “That will do my aching body some good.”
When I was pregnant with Linus, Linnea and I bathed together almost every night. I just floated like a giant pink balloon while she poured water on my head and drove her Thomas the Tank Engine boat around me. We also had some pretty great conversations. Today was no different.
“You know,” I said, “I think your teeth are going to start looking like this [making buck-teeth gesture] if you don’t give up your boppy [pacifier] soon.”
She looked at me quietly, unimpressed.
“Like a bunny,” I said. “You teeth will do this [more gestures].”
“Like a bunny?” she said with delight. “A bunny!”
“Is that what you want?” I asked.
She thought about that for a minute.
“Well, why do you look like a grasshopper?” she asked.
“Like a grasshopper? Do I?”
“You do,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Nobody said parenting would be good for the old self-esteem.
*****
I was in a foul mood earlier—truly the worst in a long time. A long walk—typically my cure-all—hadn’t helped, and I was doing a lot of muttering, as crabby mothers are wont to do.
As I scurried around the kitchen with a rain cloud atop my head, a small girl in a gown more appropriate for a summer wedding than a snowy Sunday at home had something to say.
“Can we pray now, Mommy?”
I was stunned. We’re not prone to praying in the kitchen. Recently, I’ve tried to get back into a bedtime prayer routine after a long hiatus. I’m not sure how that happened—one night, were recited “Now I lay me,” and the next, we dove right into the hugs-squeezes-kisses routine after Hop on Pop.
“Yes,” I said. “Now is the perfect time to pray.”
In case I’ve just gone a little too “Family Circus” for you, you may be comforted to know that she proceeded to hit me in the head with a toy teapot within the hour.
*****
I Want to Know
What have you learned from a kid recently?
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Tomorrow Gavin will be 11 so I took him out to lunch today. It was fun to take him to Old Country Buffet and let him make all his own choices. But before we got there, I got lost and had to turn around twice. I said I hope you learned a lesson today. He said he did. I asked what the lesson was and he didn’t have a clue. I said that when you are lost you can always turn around and go back. He thought it was a good one.
As we were driving he made some point and I agreed with him. He said it was good to know he wasn’t always wrong. I said he was right lots of time, just look at school. He seemed to think that doesn’t matter much. I learned again that the negative messages we give our kids seem to sink in so much more than the positive ones. Is it that there is more passion in our put downs and the messages of praise sound false? I don’t know. I do know that it is in our power to love and adore these children and only give the negative messages when really needed.
Ugh…I need this reminder today. I feel like I’ve been saying “no” too often. I need to get more creative and be more patient!! Thanks for sharing this story.
aww! I LOVE your bathtub ritual with your daughter when you were pregnant, and this one today. That is so cute. Such great moments, and they really gave me even more insight into you as a mom (and I’m glad you overcame your crappy mood! I hate when I can’t shake mine!)
Thanks, jobo! I am so rarely in a bad mood these days that I felt ill prepared to deal. Thankfully, my daughter helped.
Not as poignant, but a fun lesson from a five year old grandson staying overnight. He brought jammies he’d grown out of. Grandma gave him her Twins t-shirt to sleep in which he thought was very cool. He and were getting ready for bed in the bathroom when all of a sudden I heard, “Grandpa, it’s kind of hard to go potty with a too long shirt.” Right buddy, it’d be hard for anyone!
Cute! Love that kid!!
Piper: C [from daycare] wasn’t very nice to me and Holden today.
Me: Why?
P: He was mean to me and hit Holden with a ball.
Me: Why do you think that he did that?
P: I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like us.
Me: Why do you think he doesn’t like you?
P: Well, EVERYBODY likes me because *I’M* pretty.
She certainly doesn’t lack in self confidence…
Well, we need more women with self-confidence in the world. If she’s like her parents, she’ll be smart, too, and hopefully she’ll start bragging about that as well.
Conversation at daycare.
HD: Cat. C-A-T.
Piper: How do *you* know that?!
HD: Because I’m smart!
Which is exactly what I declared to the admissions office at Blake when I was 5. But Piper will also tell you that she’s smart…
I am still on the grasshopper. wondering what parallel she was drawing. I love the mystifying but brilliant logic of children. {I’m sure she meant it in a good way!}
xo Mary Jo
I didn’t think of this until you mentioned it, but I actually used a grasshopper metaphor in my memoir to describe my super-tall husband trying to sit in a tiny hospital bed (legs all bent to fit). Maybe that’s what she meant about me sitting in the tub! I love how you put this: “the mystifying but brilliant logic of children.” So true!
Kids really do say the darndest things don’t they?
Tonight as we were driving home from daycare, Belén kept asking why “that ball is following us.” I was starting to wonder if the kid really is seeing ghosts (see my post tomorrow morning) until we got home and I realized she was talking about the moon.
Aww…that is so cute! “That ball!” It’s so cool to watch them slowly discover the world. I can’t believe how often I’m trying to explain something simple like that–I’m not even sure how to explain it sometimes, you know?