Boy 2 was caught in the in-between yesterday at the Y.
Two months too young for the room for bigger kids, and bored in the room with little people. Boy 2 planted cement feet in front of me and refused to go to his class.
What is a mama who wants forty-five minutes of elliptical grind to do? Clearly I was putting my needs above his.
My children need me to buy and prepare food, to do their laundry, to bandage their booboos, to read to them, hug them and nurture them. And I am glad they need all of that. I love the mom stuff.
But sometimes I need them.
I need them to help with the dishes, to clean their rooms, to wipe their own noses, and to go to class at the Y. The relationship I share with my growing little people is a two-way street of mutual love and service.
So my mama’s mind argues that he needs to go and my mama’s heart is mad he can’t have what he wants…and even madder I can’t give it to him. Maybe I don’t just want him to be happy- maybe I want to be the one who makes him happy. Uh oh.
Then I remember how much I learn when I don’t get what I want. The unevenness and unfairness of life is a useful tool in parenting. Living sacrificially teaches them just like it teaches us.
So I got on my knees in front of the child who owns a Texas-size chunk of my heart and I asked him for a favor. No threats involved. No “because Mommy says so” kind of stuff. Jack is big and loves me, and he knows I need him to show me that love every once in a while.
“In two months, you can go to the big class. But for now, can you please be okay in here until 4:20? You have your snack. I promise to pick you up first and not to be late,” I said softly.
Boy 2 nodded, kissed me and walked into class.
My heart ached all the way to the cardio area. Selfishly, I wish I could give him everything he ever wanted. But I don’t get to do that.
I can pick him up early, though.
“Look Jack! 4:19! I’m early!”. My smile beams at him.
I just love that boy.
