Thursday, August 20, 2009
Do you ever have that moment, a fleeting second even, when you can sit back and say, "I feel like I'm doing a great job!" That moment when all your efforts at motherhood are paying off in a big way. Like when your 2-year-old tells you your his best bud in the whole world and gives you a big wet kiss followed by a jack o'lantern grin and your 6-year-old sets the table without being asked while his 4-year-old brother helps by climbing up on the counter to hand him the plates? Or when you look around and see that the house, while it wouldn't pass the white-gloved mafia test for cleanliness, is clean enough and your children are happy and learning and you just feel content?
I had one of those moments recently. I made dinner with my 2-year-old at my side, spooning the pizza sauce onto the hamburger buns and sprinkling the cheese on top. My 1-year-old splashed away happily in the sink a few feet away, pouring water into cups and squeezing out the dishrag with delight while standing on a towel-covered chair and floor to keep the water mess to a minimum. My 6- and 4-year-old's sat at the table drawing superheroes and making up stories. Then, when the pizzas came out of the oven 15 minutes later, and I told them dinner was ready, they hopped up, cleared off the table themselves and went to work setting it while I cut up fruit and the younger two "helped" put my laundry away.
I thought to myself, "Man, I'm awesome at this!"
I'd better hold on to that thought. Because I'm sure that tomorrow while a child is having a major meltdown, I'll be thinking, "What was I thinking?!"