Photo: Dear snow, thank you for going away. Could you please hurry up? The boys really need to start getting outside to play. K? Thx.
Major has been doing a lot of mirroring in his imaginary play lately. It started with him finding one of the old plastic (and loud) baby phones that lights up and sings (that he hasn’t looked at in years) and deciding that it is his “Google phone.” Whenever he has a question, he asks the phone first: “Ok Google: But why did that airplane say that funny word?” and then either he falls into a fit of laughter or he reports back on what “google” told him. He also uses his “Google phone” to call friends to ask them questions, or call Daddy to ask if he’s on the train, or even to call me (when he’s at other people’s houses for playdates) to ask me if I am coming or if he can stay longer. It’s very sweet.
This week, that play has expanded. Suddenly, Major is having my day: “Uhm, Mommy, I have to go pick up the kids from school,” he announced to me a few days ago. “And first, I have to get them in the car and then second I have to walk them into the school, and then I have to drop them off, but not one of the kids, and then we have to go all the way to the grocery store! Ack! So much!”
And you have to understand, he says it only in the way that a four year-old can, with a little bit of extra dramatic exasperation. Sometimes, his hand comes to his forehead as he’s saying it, sometimes there is a hand on his hip, sometimes he just sorta throws his hands up and shakes his head as if he just cannot even…
It’s adorable. And hilarious. And also makes my heart skip a beat.
Do I really sound like that? All the time? Is that really all he hears when I speak?
It’s not that I’m not doing that a lot. My life is just one long running task list (how many of these posts have you read that have just turned into a running list of all the things that I did in a day. Like you care, right? lol). And, yeah, there is a lot of exasperation in my voice lately… it’s the winter… it’s the being cooped up.
But it’s interesting to hear it from someone else. Like, “wow, I must seem like I’m one of those obnoxious over-busy-must-tell-you-all-the-time sorta people…”
But I also know that I’m not. For all the moments when I’ve been huffy about this delay or that, there are the other moments when I sit in our sun-filled nursery and read Hungry Caterpillar four times because they ask me to. Why don’t you put that in your imaginative play, bro!?
There is something else about this that I think is interesting: I often don’t think that people see me. I write about that a lot. And I am reminded that this is not exactly true. And when it comes to these two boys, that’s absolutely not true. And I’m walking a fine line: I want them to see that I do a lot for them, but I don’t want them to feel guilty/ashamed of that. I want them to find appreciation for it (someday, not now, that would be a lot to expect). So to hear him “examine” the events of my days through his play is an interesting study for me.
Lord knows this is a new thing. He also incorporates a lot of stuff we don’t have (like a mini-van. “Mom, I’m getting the kids in the van”) and there are plenty of other moments when he’s “pew-pewing” bad guy spaceships or fighting fires or rescuing barns with the Paw Patrol or whatever… I guess it’s a good thing that his developing mind has room for both the mundane and the whimsical.
It is also a good thing for me to take pause for time to time, especially as Major develops and picks up more and more things. He, like me, has a far more interesting internal dialogue going on than what he lets on, but now and again he will let it out, and when he does, it’s very important. It’s good for me to be reflective about what he sees and hears from me, how he processes that information, and what the does to his behavior and development. I don’t want him to think that he exhausts me (I mean, he does, but that’s because he and his brother are demanding dudes) and I don’t want him to think that I don’t want to be here. I don’t want him to wonder if I’d rather be anywhere else. 99.9% of the time, I don’t. But there is that fine line again, right? There has to be honesty here, too. This isn’t easy, he isn’t always easy, and to obtain all of the things that he wants, needs and deserves takes effort. His world is expanding, but we must see the shadows as much as we see the golden rays of light, right?
It’s a fine line. Always a fine line. Sometimes I wish parenting had significantly more broad strokes and easy answers. 🙂
Believe it or not, after all of that anxiety re: my writer’s block, I had a fantastic writing week. I have completely edited Act one of my novel. Can you believe it!? I am so pleased! Editing is a lot of work. So much work. But very satisfying and even a little bit fun. I’d like to send a little shoutout to my dear friend, Rochelle, who published her latest book this week, Making Dollars & Sense: A Financial Primer for Single Moms & Dads Plus College Students, Too! I am so proud of her and all of the work that she does!
What are you feeling proud of this week? Have you accomplished something wonderful this week? Did you hear or see something that made you stop and look inward? Are you as sick of nuance as I am? I think it’s the weather. Or maybe the waning moon.
It is a melty, soggy Friday here in Massachusetts. So I wish you good boots. Seriously! But I also wish you bare ground and hopeful green. I wish you a trip to the garden store to do a little bit of dreaming for the projects ahead, or maybe some time watching some DIY shows on television. I wish you some shopping for something colorful to wear in the coming weeks, maybe that first pedicure to get you ready for the season. I wish you brunch with your favorite friend and a little bit of people watching. I wish you the sight of first buds on the trees, the return of birdsong in your morning. I wish you a chocolate egg or a jelly bean, the purchase of baskets or some plastic grass. And I wish you a pint of Guinness or time with someone who knows how to cook with it (and oh, do I! 🙂 ). I wish you a time to dream, a time to doze, a time to wish, and a time to whisper. And love and joy, as usual, because you are so worthy of it.
Until Monday, take care.