Ice-Cream on a Monday
A few nights ago, I looked at my 9-year-old, scoop himself some ice cream after dinner, with a look of complete and utter joy. Joy over ice cream. I watched him as he hummed and smiled with each scoop he put into the bowl. I looked at him, slightly amazed, not because of his excellent ice cream dishing up skills, or the fact that he took exactly the same amount I would have given him, but because he was happy. Just plain happy. Like Geronimo Stilton books and PS4 happy.
There are times when I am hard on him unnecessarily, because of the own frazzle that I am in most of the time, for example the reason we are late for school sometimes is because I slept an extra 10 minutes and that isn’t really his fault, but I’ve yelled at him anyway for taking ages.
The great thing is, he holds no record of this. He doesn’t remember all the many times I have messed up. Neither does he worry that he didn’t get selected for the elocution competition in school or that he didn’t win at the handwriting competition. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t do excellent in his exams, what he remembers is that his teacher said she saw a huge improvement. That was enough to put a smile on his face. What matters to him is that he scored 3 goals and won man of the match at football. Why then, is that not enough for me?
Why am I so hard on myself? Why do I need to pay heed to all these little things, for they are little in the bigger scheme of things.
It doesn’t make me any less of a mum if I didn’t make it to the PTA meeting or if I was a little late in picking him up from football. It does not make me terrible for remembering at 9pm that he had an assignment due the next morning, what he will remember about that is how we spent an hour, late at night printing out images and cutting and pasting and drawing fancy borders. Time well spent.
I fear that they will remember all the times I said no (which let’s face it, is a lot) and all the things I don’t do with them because I am too busy. But maybe, just maybe, they will remember nights like that. When I said yes to ice cream on a Monday.
I should learn from his happy over ice cream and allow that to trickle into my life. It’s the little things that matter the most.