As a mother, I get little
glimpses of myself through the eyes of my children every day.
Unfortunately, it isn't always flattering.
Yesterday we had Honored Friend and
her 2.8 children over for dinner. As the children were unloading the
dishwasher, I snuck off to change my shirt. Halfway with the shirt over my
head, I hear a knock on the door. It was my oldest son, who by some genetic
mutation, has the freakish ability to tell when I'm only half dressed and
suddenly 'need to talk to me'. His brother, by the way, has a similar genetic
disorder that hones in on those times when I'm in the bathroom, invariably
taking care of business. They also both have the 'Quick! Mommy's in the bubble bath.
Let's rescue her from all that peace and quiet!' disorder, though as I
understand it, this is somewhat more common. Back to the story...
Captain Awesome, in the confident
and high-timbered voice of a first grader, solemnly informed me (through
the bedroom door) that he could now put away the glasses. Now normally, I'm the
one who puts those away. The layout of the kitchen just doesn't allow for me to
keep everything where they can reach and glasses seemed the logical choice for
something kept up high. Today, though, Awesome told me that he could reach
without a chair, without climbing on the cabinets, and without breaking
anything (I know because I asked). After listening to his little speech, I
wasn't sure how to respond and, in the time it took for me to think, he took
matters into his own hands.
"Mommy, I'm just going to put
them up this time."
"What? Are you sure you can do that?"
"Yes, Mommy. I'm going to put
them up." He stood there in silence for another beat and then, before I
could think of a reason to protest, he added, "Now don't freak out, okay
Mommy?"
And he had me. Even through the door,
my son knew me well enough that he cut off any further protests with that one
little phrase. Such an adult thing for him to say, too. I wasn't certain
whether I wanted to laugh or get offended. Why in the world would he say that
to me?
"Mommy, did you hear me? Don't
freak out when you see them put away."
"Okay, Honey. You can do
it."
Oh yeah. I would have freaked out. If
I had come back into the kitchen and found the glasses already put away, I
would have third degree'd those boys!
What are these doing up here?
Who did this? Did you get Daddy to put them away? Did you get a chair? WHAT?
Then you climbed on my counter??!! I don't believe you. There's no way you could
reach that! Oh yeah? Show me. ... Oh. .... Okay. ... mmm sorry.
Do I always freak out about stuff
like this? Looking back, I think I do. I never considered myself a 'freak out'
kind of mom, but I guess I am. I recall a time last fall when Little Man came
home with grass stains on his jeans and a serious, apologetic confession to
accompany them. When I just him it was 'okay,' he was stunned.
He blurted out, "You mean you
aren't mad?"
I laughed and asked why I should be.
"I just thought you would be.
You don't like when I ruin my clothes."
I tried to explain to him that I
understood when things were accidents and when they could have been prevented
(wiping his hands on his pants instead of on the napkin, anyone?) but the look
on his face told me that it never mattered to me before, at least as far as he
understood. Wow, I really do sweat the small stuff more than I like to admit!
So, FreakOut!Mommy needs a chill
pill, apparently. It is funny how simple moments become epiphanies that shine a
spotlight on flaws we didn't even know we had. Thank goodness for these
moments, else I remain flawed and my family suffer. Thank goodness for these
moments, else it might be a tragic moment later on when I look back and see the
flaws too little too late.
