I despise being micromanaged. I simmer when someone underestimates me or blindly insists that his or her way is better. And, yet, lately, I've found myself smothering J and K with help, with (some totally unnecessary) rules and with imposing questions thinly veiled as "suggestions."
Like, the other day when Jules was making a birthday card for his friend Zoe and I was handing him the stamps I wanted him to use... Despite my attempts to control his art he produced something brilliant with all the stamps I didn't push in his direction--and then wanted to put on the finishing touch: a snowman sticker. It wasn't what I'd consider a retro-cool snowman sticker; it was a boring-looking snow guy sticker that came in a pack of 1,000 for $1. (Not that there's anything wrong with a good bargain.)
"Do you really want to put that sticker on your really cool card?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? I like it without the sticker." What the hell is wrong with me?
Hmm....
Then there's my insisting on picking up Kai and shuttling him down the stairs through his protests: "No, Mum. Kai's turn! Kai's turn!" The dude is almost two. Yes, he's wearing slippery footed PJs and could easily topple down our steep carpeted stairway, built in 1949, that would never pass code today. But walking down in front of him to break a fall down the entire flight would suffice. It does suffice. And while my leading his parade might be a good precaution, it's probably an unnecessary one, I realize as Kai carefully and competently makes his way down.
The other day, I told Jules I was going to teach him to peel a carrot. "I already know how to peel a carrot, Mom. We did it in school." I handed him the peeler and he proceeded to perfectly peel the three pounds himself. I diced and together we made vegan carrot bisque. And then I promised myself that I'm not only going to stop squashing Julian's creativity by offering unsolicited feedback on his masterpieces (still annoyed with myself for doing that) but I'm also going to try really hard to stop thinking "little" with my little guys. I want them to do big things, to reach, to explore and to repeatedly experience that awesome rush you get when you rock something for the first time. That euphoria that drips from Kai's dimples when he shouts, "I did it!" And to feel that, to really feel that, you have to fail first. And sometimes you have to fall. Literally. Luckily, I know first-hand that Burlington has some pretty awesome ER docs.
UPDATE: Just in! Photos of Julian's card for Zoe. Thanks, Elisa! xo
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| Julian snapped this shot in the woods with my phone. All my himself. |
"Do you really want to put that sticker on your really cool card?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? I like it without the sticker." What the hell is wrong with me?
Hmm....
Then there's my insisting on picking up Kai and shuttling him down the stairs through his protests: "No, Mum. Kai's turn! Kai's turn!" The dude is almost two. Yes, he's wearing slippery footed PJs and could easily topple down our steep carpeted stairway, built in 1949, that would never pass code today. But walking down in front of him to break a fall down the entire flight would suffice. It does suffice. And while my leading his parade might be a good precaution, it's probably an unnecessary one, I realize as Kai carefully and competently makes his way down.
The other day, I told Jules I was going to teach him to peel a carrot. "I already know how to peel a carrot, Mom. We did it in school." I handed him the peeler and he proceeded to perfectly peel the three pounds himself. I diced and together we made vegan carrot bisque. And then I promised myself that I'm not only going to stop squashing Julian's creativity by offering unsolicited feedback on his masterpieces (still annoyed with myself for doing that) but I'm also going to try really hard to stop thinking "little" with my little guys. I want them to do big things, to reach, to explore and to repeatedly experience that awesome rush you get when you rock something for the first time. That euphoria that drips from Kai's dimples when he shouts, "I did it!" And to feel that, to really feel that, you have to fail first. And sometimes you have to fall. Literally. Luckily, I know first-hand that Burlington has some pretty awesome ER docs.
UPDATE: Just in! Photos of Julian's card for Zoe. Thanks, Elisa! xo
This made me tear up! I love the therapy I receive in the form of my wonderful friends' reflections on life. I'm an offender, too, but it comes from a good place. Don't forget to give yourself a pat on the back because it is your skills as a mom that have helped nurture and mold these amazing and competent human beings. Zoe and I love the card and have admired it many times-- the heart stamps are her favorite part. I just took some photos and will text them to you in case you want to post. xx elisa
ReplyDeleteElisa, Your note-and these photos-just made my day. xo
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