Confessing

Sometimes, I sing to my children. 
Sometimes, I call them goofy names. 
Sometimes, I do both at the same time.

Confessing

Saturday was a cold night for the Santa Claus Parade.  I stepped out of the house eagerly enough, but by the time I had hopped around Third Ave for twenty minutes waiting for the thing to get going, I was feeling a little grinchy.  Finally it begins and there are horses and firetrucks and dancers and treats.  And cold little children.  Who want me to read every sign that goes by, "That one says The Timmins Kinsmen Club."  My toes are ice cubes and I'm pretending to enjoy myself.  There may be some internal cussing happening.  Then Hannah says the words I've been longing to hear, "I'm cold.  I wanna go home."

 

"Are you sure," I gleefully ask.

 

Headnod.

 

That's good enough for me.  Jared agrees to stay with the other children and I turn to go, Hannah's hand in mine.  We only make it a few metres before I notice Hannah's ambivalence, "Hannah, do you really wanna go home?"

 

Silence.

 

And it hits me, "Hannah, are you sad about missing Santa?"

 

Headnod.

 

"Should we go back?"

 

Headnod.

 

And just like that I'm back curbside, waiting for the big guy.  My heart three sizes bigger. 

 

 

Big Cats and Cold Feet in the Moonlight

Last night, for Family Home Evening, we donned our winter coats and jumped on the trampoline.  My children taught me how to butt slam.  We lay back and looked at the moon.  And the stars.  Our feet grew cold.  We were ready to wind down when someone suggested some Animal Fighting.  I'd never heard of Animal Fighting.  It's a game Mary invented when she was six--six years ago.  For the next twenty minutes, I sat beside Jared on the edge of the tramp and watched in amazement.  Those children became panthers (or maybe tigers).  I could almost see muscles rippling under black fur as they leapt at one another growling.  Hannah snuggled next to me and in occasional comments, explained the game.

"They need to bite each other on the neck to get a point."

"Right now, they're playing for three points."

"Oh!  Jonah's not supposed to do that.  Standing up is against the rules."

"They don't actually bite, they just do this (her mouth opens wide in a snarl and she creates a something between a hiss and a growl).  That counts."

"Jonah has a really good leap.  Beth's is silly (she says this giggling), she looks like a frog, but she does go higher."

Mary gets two points on Jonah quickly.  Her legs are longer, which in this game is a huge advantage.  She offers to "make things interesting" by giving him two free points, "So, the next point wins."  He gets her and she shakes his hand and congratulates him before moving on to Beth.  Their match lasts longer, maybe because they keep pausing for Daniel.  He wants to be part of things and Mary lets him pounce on her with his extended claws and cute little growl.  Each time, he returns to my lap crowing jubilantly, "I did it!  I did it!  Your turn, Mama?"

Sitting there in my moonlit backyard, surrounded by the laughter of independent, interesting people, I felt deep happiness.  They had welcomed me into their rich, secret world and it was beautiful.

Hannah and the Paradigm Shift(s)

On Sunday, I held Hannah's hand on the walk home from church.  As we (she) skipped along, I asked her playfully, "Hannah, how much do I love you?"

"A lot," she chirped.

"And what do I think of you," was my follow up.

"I'm cute and adorable."

Gulp.  Head whip.  Full stop.  Maybe calling her a cutie-little-fluff-ball has not been my best parenting move.  In my defense, she is cute and adorable...and so much more.

"You're right about that!  What else do I think?"

Shoulder shrug.

"Do I think you're smart?"

Smile.

"And strong?"

Giggle.

"And fun?"

"Yeah!"

"And funny?"

"Yup!"

"And brave?"

She paused before lisping, "But, I'm shy."

"It's okay to be shy.  Most people are shy sometimes.  You can be shy and brave at the same time."

Head nod.

"So what do I think of you?"

"I'm strong. And I really am strong.  I can lift stuff."

"That's a good point.  What else do I think?"

"I'm fun and funny."

"And?"

"I'm brave."

"And?"

"I farted."