One of the great things–among many–about children getting older is that they begin to call you out on your crap. I say this joking, of course, because it isn’t exactly a moment of great parenting joy when your ten year old informs you that you are clearly driving over the speed limit, or points out that you too leave your pajamas lying in a heap on the bathroom floor after you climb out of them (we call that “rapture clothes”), or that you “always forget to sign my folder.” When I’m being fired too many of these parenting infractions, I have a snappy comeback–and feel free to borrow it because it works wonders.
“I’m sorry,” I’ll say with a smile after being corrected for leaving my purse in the car when I tell them not to leave their backpacks. “I have a question for you–” which is basically cue for “Run!” because everyone knows what comes next.
“DID YOU PUSH ME OUT OF YOUR VAGINA?!!?!?!?”
Here’s my parenting tip of the year: Kids love to hear their mom say vagina. You’re welcome. Use it well.
Despite my commitment to reminding everyone around here what my bizness has been through and how it earns me the right to make the rules and call people out on them, last week my kid called me out on something that stopped me in my tracks.
I was right in the middle of pulling out one of my trusty sermons on gratitude–the one with the overused lines I’ve regurgitated so many times–“We have so much” and “If only you knew” and sometimes goes so far as to include the line about kids in third world countries who wear the same shirt everyday and play with nothing more than old rubber tires “WITH JOY,” I add.
And then she brought it up…”But Mom,” she said. And though it wasn’t the best time to do it, it was strategically effective: “I heard you on the phone yesterday. You weren’t being grateful either.”
I was just about ready to take it back to the vagina, but I remembered the phone call and knew everything she heard. Well, shit.
“Tell me,” I said.
“You told Heidi that our bathrooms are so old and that everything feels outdated and that there’s so many changes you want to make, you don’t know where to start.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” Crap crap crap.
The fact is that in a perfectly human low moment of griping about Things People Gripe About (subtitle: “and have no business doing so”), my daughter heard me and made note of my attitude, and–while perhaps manipulating it to get out of her own gratitude shortness–made a point I needed to hear.
So we talked about gratitude. I told her how lucky we are to have a beautiful home and pointed out the things I love about it–the cozy corners that make me feel so happy and the projects we’ve taken on to make it more “us”. We made lists of little things we are grateful for in this house–silly things like “my favorite blanket on the couch,” “that moon night light you love” and “a bathtub for long Sunday morning baths.” I told her that she was right. She caught me in a moment where gratitude wasn’t shining very brightly, but that it happens sometimes, and that gratitude is a life long practice–like eating well and taking care of our bodies. Sometimes we eat the cake we know isn’t great for us, but we get back on track.
This time of year–a week before Nella’s birthday–I always go back and read the things I wrote around the time she was born. Yesterday, I read this from her birth story, a reference to another time in my life when circumstances stripped gratitude down to its bones:
When Lainey was in the hospital with (alarming, unexplainable and unresponsive) jaundice, I remember hugging Brett and crying. I told him if God would make her better, I’d do anything. I’d live in a box, I’d sell everything we had, I’d be happy with nothing…just make her better. When she did get better, that feeling of raw gratitude was real, but it wasn’t long before real life set in and I was complaining once again about the dirty grout in our cheap tile and how much I wanted wood floors. I’ve often thought about how quickly that feeling left because we have a perfect, healthy little girl running around that erases all the painful memories of when we thought something might be seriously wrong. But I felt that feeling again last week. And as the pain has slowly dissipated, I’ve realized…I will always be reminded.
The house comment Lainey heard me say was silly and more representative of my creative brain that loves transforming and beautifying hings more than my displeasure with a wonderful space to call home, but the situation did call to attention something I’ve let slip–my relationship with gratitude and the practice of keeping it alive. When marriage relationships get challenged or feel dull, we stoke the fire with therapy and date nights and critical attention. When our gratitude relationship–which is basically our relationship with the world and life itself, what more importance could it have?–gets challenged, it calls for the same, if not more. I want to stoke the fire of my gratitude flames, notice more the thousand tiny things that are worth celebrating, let my children hear me speak of how much I love the jasmine that blooms on our front yard bushes, the way our windows let all that glorious afternoon light come pouring in, this strong healthy body of mine that can run and move and take care of everyone, the sweetest ripe strawberries in our refrigerator right now. Let them know my gratitude not just by what I say I’m thankful for but how I spend my time.
Mary Oliver said, “Ten times a day something happens to me like this – some strengthening throb of amazement – some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.” I want to up the ante and make it twenty times a day–to feel that strengthening throb of amazement, that attentiveness for all the good and wonderful things that exist and happen around us…and not on our phones, might I add.
There are some little adjustments I’m making with my gratitude relationship that I’m excited about–from writing gratitude prayers in my journal and pulling out the old Mary Oliver books to reevaluating my “inspiration” social media and magazine input.
With that said, lately we’ve been enjoying…
Things Dash Says.
I’ve never written down so many funny things for one kid. His crazy imagination goes non-stop, and his brain filters nothing before it comes out of his mouth.
Even when he’s not being funny, we hang on to all the little phrases and pronunciations that keep that sweet preschool vibe alive and well in our house. My favorite? “Pizuzz” for “Because”. As in: “I’m going to wear a sweater pizuzz it’s cold outside.”
Siblings That Care of Each Other.
He panics on the way to school if he notices I forgot to wipe cream cheese off Nella’s face. She double checks his preschool bag to make sure I packed him a water.
He reminds me to put Nella’s glasses on her, never asks for a vitamin without holding out his other hand “for Nella” and runs to pick out a nightgown for her when it’s time to go to bed.
It never gets old…watching them love each other.
A Vine-Hugged Wall.
The Sound of a Remote Control Car in Our House (translation: Childhood dwells here.)
A good bandana scarf, Chuck Taylors, Florida sweaters in January, 2 braids, the color yellow, big sisters who amuse little sisters, a simple stick bringing this girl so much joy for 10 months straight now.
The intersection of youth and everything that lies beyond.
Slime. Even though I also say I hate it. Do I contradict myself? Very well, then. I am large, I contain multitudes.
Off to clean up the rapture clothes I left on the bathroom floor this morning…the bathroom that has running water–water that gets hot, might I add–and two sinks, and a big window, and a tub that brings me so many happy, relaxing moments that make life easier. And for that, I am grateful.
Megan says
Oh girl, this has been on my mind all year (2018…probably before that too). A good and wonderful friend of mine started a gratitude group on Facebook, and it has been lovely to see how everyone practices gratitude. I’m doing a graphic gratitude journal, one page for each day. We will see how it goes, but even if I don’t complete each day, it will be worth it.
Carly says
I listened to this again at the beginning of the year and I’ve been trying to embrace the little moments of joy: reading on the couch with my just-turned-11 year old, morning snuggles with my nine year old, the pleasure of a good book, the first bite of a favourite meal. It is very slowly changing how I see things – my book will always be there at bedtime but my snuggly, rambling nine year old won’t.
http://www.cbc.ca/radio/tapestry/happy-happy-joy-joy-1.3804787/joy-on-demand-the-three-second-fix-1.3804789
Stacey says
Hi Kelle,
Don’t know where to begin…there is so much I love about this post! Especially the reminder of
gratitude being a life long daily practice, just like self care. So true.
Stacey
P.S. You may have already heard about the book “The Quitable Kid, A Parents’ Journal of Unforgettable Quotes”, but in case you haven’t check it out! It’s the perfect little book to jot down those things you don’t ever want to forget.
Stacey says
Whoops! The Quotable Kid!!! ????
Zala says
When I decided to accept that my default was not gratitude, when admitting that being human contained more grumbling that being thankful and that my very nature would always need to practice gratitude daily, me and my life changed. My way I do business changed and the way I was soft with myself, became a thing.
Dede says
“The days that I keep my gratitude higher than my expectations, I have really good days.”
-ray wylie Hubbard
Michelle says
My husband and I completely remodeled our home about fifteen years ago and while we both made compromises, the one that still makes me cringe is the fact he wanted to keep the knotty pine that leads up the stairs. The shag carpet was pulled to reveal beautiful hardwood, walls and ceiling removed, new paint, walls, cabinets, etc., but not the awful knotty pine. He said, and still says, it reminds him to be humble of how he saved with his friend to buy the house and that was there when he bought it. He also reminds me that if it was ripped out, and drywalled, would the new walls really bring me true happiness? Would my daily joy in life be changed? The truth is, that answer is, no. As much as I dislike it every time I go up the stairs, it does not change my happiness in life. So, of course when I said it was time to change all the rugs and paint colors from 15 years ago, well, I’m sure you know what his response was. That being said, my “warm coffee shop look” from 2003 will be staying a lot longer.
Kelle says
I love this. 🙂
Katie @ Live Half Full says
It’s always good to check ourselves before we wreck ourselves. Or, there’s kids for that. 🙂
Amy says
I started a committee at my daughters’ school 3 years ago that I still run; we work with the counselor, teachers and social worker to make sure that ALL children, despite any financial or familial difficulties, have what they need to succeed and to have confidence (and full bellies). We’ve (anonymously) provided everything from food to bedding, shoes, car seats for students’ new baby siblings, Thanksgiving grocery gift cards, etc.
I love the committee and the overwhelming generosity shown by the families at our school, but it also (selfishly) serves another area of my life: reminding me how lucky I am and just how much I have.
A month ago, as I was searching the shelves of the fifth store in a row for LOL Pets and fighting last minute shopping crowds, I was frustrated and angry, caught up in some straight up self-absorbed Christmas foolishness. While standing/cursing in front of those maddeningly empty toy shelves, I got a text from the school social worker: “Urgent need! Just left a home visit. Family of 6 with no heat in their mobile home. Mother has requested ‘Christmas gifts’ of electric blankets, space heaters and warm pajamas for the 4 kids.” So . . . yeah. Who needs f’ing LOL dolls when you have HEAT?? That poor mama. I went home and snuggled warmly with my kids and gave up any searches for the “perfect” gift.
Anyway, we all need reminders to snap us to attention sometimes.
Laura says
Love this! If you want to feel better about your bathrooms, come and see mine. I look at them and remind myself, that those old bathrooms are the opportunity cost of paying my son’s tuition. I have to add my snarky teacher comment though! I love responding to my third graders “that’s impossible” when they say their parent forgot to sign their assignment notebook, put a water bottle or snack in their backpack, or put their homework in their red folder. “That’s impossible because those things are your responsibilities, not mom or dad’s responsibilities. Fighting the good cause for overloaded parents.
Jennifer says
I read one woman’s writing on feeling crappy about her dumpy house because “ALL of her friends” had more beautiful, updated kitchens etc. She wrote that she went to bed mad and sad and insecure. But when she woke up the next day she decided to put on her “perspecticles”. All that needed to change was her perspective about her house. With her new “glasses” she could see and be grateful for a fridge to keep her food cold, and oven to cook with, hot/cold running water on demand, cupboards and space to keep all her stuff. The fact that she had “stuff” that needed keeping. And on and on.
I love your writing! You answered and email of mine years ago – attached was a photo of my son with a little something extra going to his Senior Prom. You became a rock star to me because you saw me and validated how important that event was. My husband will ask how my “Florida Family” is doing as I follow you on Insta too! “Oh nuthin, just checking in on my Florida family.” The effort you take to share is appreciated by so many! Thank you!
Long time follower and first time commenter,
-Jenn
Lynn says
I would never say that to a little child! Fact is, I wouldn’t say it to my grown kids!
NICOLE says
Hi Kelle
can you tell me where you got laineys pillow wild & free?
My 2 year old granddaughter loved the baby beluga song
and sings it to be and there’s a part that says you swim so
wild you swim so free.
Kelle says
It’s from Gilt.com about a year ago, so I’m sorry–I bet that doesn’t help much!
Kortni Miller says
Loved this post. Except my babies are adopted so I can’t use the brilliant vagina comment! And I remember when you wrote that about Lainey being sick. I printed it and kept it in my journal so I could also remember to bring more awareness to all the abundance in my life.
Erin says
I love your thoughts here! I need some reminding, too. And my kids call me out on stuff too (somewhere they learned the word hypocrite and they’re not afraid to use it!)
Every so often I reread this blog post about being grateful for what we have: http://momastery.com/blog/2014/08/11/give-liberty-give-debt/ (it’s not my blog- I’m just a fan). Maybe you’d enjoy it, too.
Laura says
Nothing like our kids stopping us in our tracks to “check ourselves.” Love these built in teachers of ours! Amazing how powerful Gratitude can be. Your journal entry of when Nella was born struck me…”as the pain has slowly dissipated…I realized, I will always be reminded.” We are 3 weeks out from a hospitalization of our littlest, and today I wondered will I loose my Gratitude for how our situation turned out so well? Will I be reminded how ‘lucky’ we got? How will I continue to carry Gratitude through my days?
Bailey Lorenzen says
Love this! I’ve been keeping a gratitude journal to try to change the negative attitude I found myself stuck in last year. Every day I list five days I’m thankful for. It helps me remember how blessed I am.
Danielle Mecca says
Dead. Oh my goodness. 10 years and five kids ago I couldn’t even say the word vagina. But not long ago one of my daughters refused me a sip of her drink at dinner and in front of the entire family I blurted out “need I remind you how you were born!”
I seriously thought I had scarred them forever, thank you for the encouragement that they’ll recover.
😉
Tabitha says
Totally off topic but where did you get that light in Dash’s room?
paula says
Why can’t Nella put on her own glasses or pick out her own nightgown? I understand about siblings wanting to help, but sometimes help can get in the way of independence. Nella isn’t helpless and should not be treated like she is.