censored
May 18, 2011 § 1 Comment
My daughter has an unfortunate, entirely innocent habit of pointing with her middle finger. School-aged and social, it occurred to me I may need to inform the space between my daughter’s unconscious act and outside interpretation. Casually, I suggested she choose another finger for pointing explaining simply that her middle finger alone implies a bad word. Her surprise evident in big, blue eyes wide with wonder she asked in tones of awe, What word?
Aware of her raw curiosity and cautious not to fan the flame, I didn’t name the gesture. Instead, I said it was a word so unkind that even adults shouldn’t say it. She promptly buried her fingers in each ear and with a certainty that bespoke the reassurance of a safety net covering the fragile ground on which we stood she directed me offering, Say the bad word so that I won’t hear it.
I was momentarily befuddled by her logic, curiosity contrasting innocence in tones of authority wrapped in caution. I was called back to my daughter’s wonderment with a new question. Does Daddy know the word?
Without waiting for my response, she flew up the stairs. Breathless and eager she faced her father gesturing pointedly with her forbidden finger and asked, Do you know what this means?*
*We are still working on the answer.
everyday moments
May 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
In my earliest days as a mother I promised myself to absorb each moment with my children; I was mindful that tomorrow comes too soon to wish away today. Still, a memory of my children as infants or toddlers will tease a smile and I relinquish myself to a moment of remembering. Motherhood has gifted me generous portions of gratitude for everyday moments.
Last week a childhood milestone created simple moments of joy. On an uncharacteristically warm day, when the seasons themselves seemed to be misplaced, my daughter emerged from school radiating happiness. I felt the change as my mind read the lines of her face. The raised eyebrows highlighting wide eyes and dimples punctuating a broad smile I leaned into her joy, finding the misplaced tooth. The loose tooth that she had so patiently clung to had slipped free.
My daughter opened a pastel colored, plastic treasure box revealing her tiny tooth and then replaced one treasure for another, casting the tooth aside for a ladybug. This is my daughter, spontaneous and passionate. Clutching both treasures in her fists she began sharing the source of her smile with friends, teachers, and neighbors. I could barely follow her spirited steps, so I kept my eyes on her face marking the subtle change and absorbing her enthusiasm.
Once home, her tooth was set aside. My daughter spent the late afternoon in our backyard, first freeing the ladybug and then filling out her free time between the sandbox, water balloons, baseball, and chalk. Long after her bath, tired eyes and slow footsteps turned frantic as we scoured the house in search of her forgotten tooth. Amidst tears and with urgent efforts, the tooth was found and stored away in the traditional keepsake that had often nestled under my son’s pillow.
As my daughter gave in to sleep I gathered the moment close, momentarily allowing myself to permit a memory of my son’s sleeping form to merge with the present, each child sharing a milestone and my heart full with a simple joy.
the robot
May 9, 2011 § 1 Comment
My son’s mind is perpetually generating new ideas and his pockets weighted with an eclectic assortment of mysterious pieces void of rhyme or reason. His notebooks are filled with blueprints and lists, evidence of philosophical engineering. Filed unsystematically among his homework papers I uncovered a list in his rushed penmanship titled: Robot. He proceeded to map a plan on folded up, forgotten paper.
- take classes
- buy gadgets
- buy equipment
- design robot
- hire volunteer professionals & experts for free
- build parts
- assemble
- etc.
- win Nobel Prize
- pay Dad back
- throw this list away casually
I am missing information, but the self-assurance underlying his plan is spectacular. I wonder when we stop reaching for the moon and focus on the space between our steps.
baggage
May 9, 2011 § Leave a comment
I fell in love with a bag; bright contrasting colors, a symphony of shapes arranged artfully in large playful ruffles. I wore the fabric masterpiece around the boutique, struggling to place the object of my affection at the register. The spontaneous, fun-loving part of my brain was squealing with childish delight imagining lazy, summer afternoons as I embarked on adventures with my children; my bag a treasure trove of beach towels, snacks, and art supplies.
The logical part of my brain itemized complimentary outfits and balanced whim with nagging doubt. Was the fabric washable? Why wasn’t there an interior pocket for my wallet or cell phone? Would I really use the bag or did I just like the impulsive imagine of myself the colors seemed to cast in my mind?
I didn’t buy the bag, but I found myself smiling all the same, quietly amused by the baggage that spilled free. The frugal girl who worked through college and prefers a few, sentimental treasures to a chest of fabulous objects has never really outgrown wishes and window shopping.
love and truths
May 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
My daughter is ever mindful of her big brother’s movement through the day. From the beginning, she has followed him in the shadows of his distractions, monitoring his activities and interests with love and admiration. The comfortable span of four years between them, there has been little cause for comparison, until now. More socially attune to the world around her, she has begun to lead her big brother creating a new experience between them.
It began with physical cues. Her brother lost in his own thoughts, she would redirect him with a touch on his shoulder or the small of his back, naturally guiding him into a moment. Initially she seemed to respond to this need with joy; happily stepping forward and finding a place by her brother’s side.
Recently, my daughter’s voice filled with sadness, she asked me why her brother was born different. She catalogued the spaces between them and I felt my world tilt off course with the weight of consciousness underlying her questions.
As their mother, my heart ached for the answers. I found my way through a difficult language of love as I acknowledged my daughter’s needs and my son’s truths. We are all imperfect and in the understanding we sometimes find ourselves called to place our own needs aside in an act of love. I realized late, my daughter had set aside needs and was placing them carefully in my hands. Together we are filling in the spaces between our differences and caring for one another’s needs with love and truths.
graffiti
May 2, 2011 § 1 Comment
Stepping in to the shower I tugged the curtain back exposing a colorful explosion of words and numbers scrawled in the markedly flamboyant and determined hand of my daughter. 12345six78910… the numbers chasing one another across the tiles in brilliant blues, bold reds, and burnt orange; her tally stretching to 100 with six continually spelled out neatly amidst the numeric symbols, a simple nod to my daughter’s age. Words plucked from labels of shampoo and body wash bottles accompany her numbers; marketing and accounting scribbled in a child’s hand.
My daughter’s reading and math skills were slow to blossom, but her energy and determination ever-present. She captures words and numbers on papers and walls, with pen, chalk, paint and now bathtub markers. She pulls these ideas from around her, trapping each concept and making them her own; like a firefly nestled in a mason jar gifting light and admiration to those wishing for a glimmer of illumination.
I love her spontaneous sharing and for a moment I am delightfully lost to the unexpected graffiti in my shower; absorbing the light her joy brings to my days.
hello, sunshine
April 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
Grey skies and rain drenched days have kept us huddled indoors, dreary of damp afternoons. Today, the sun blossomed through the clouds and warmth spread as quickly as smiles. My daughter dressed with frantic intent and we set off for a park.
Racing ahead of me, ponytail swinging to the rhythm of her footsteps, she lovingly traced the lines of the play structure; reacquainting herself with an old friend. She slipped casually down each slide and climbed each ladder retracing footsteps from summers past. Then she settled in a quiet corner, paper and pen in hand.
I watched bewitched by the peaceful tilt of her head as she folded herself over her work in concentration. Each of us absorbing the sunshine.
distracted
April 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
This week blustered by in flurry of activity, leaving me perpetually distracted. Heart and mind pulling in different directions, my body attempted to keep pace with a frantic schedule. I begrudgingly woke early this morning, absorbing a quiet moment of stillness. Calendars and lists have charted my footsteps as I made my way through my days, but my joy guided me. In the quiet, body still, mind and heart centered, I draw upon the beautiful moments grateful for their grace.
better
April 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
In my last post I spoke from a place of pain. Mindful of a difficult moment in my child’s day I absorbed his distress, weaving it into my frustration with another child’s behavior. Mentally stomping my feet, I willed others to speak and act from a place of patience, kindness, and tolerance. A soap box is a lonely companion, so I placed myself in the company of those towards whom I felt angry and looked inward to see where I could do better.
The question I am asking myself today is: Am I living in a place of patience, kindness, and tolerance? My answer came quickly and with a force resonating with the burden of truth. So, with a deep breath, I am looking forward with the expectation that I too can do better.
