Welcome to the third in a series of motherhood posts, guest written by Amy, mother of two young boys, over at Raising Men, Finding Me.
I fell in love with her writing style instantly. It's simple but
adorned with the kind of beauty and insight that only authenticity can
offer. I feel so honored that Amy has agreed to share her intimate
world of motherhood in her lovely and touching style once a month here
on Wish List. And I have a feeling she'll connect with so many
of you mothers out there, perhaps in a way I can't. Here are her
words, her thoughts, all rooted in love. Enjoy them.
Eleven cents.
There are some days when no matter how hard we try,
my oldest son Aidan and I cannot get it together. I try to be patient and calm,
and he tries to figure out what I need from him, but I am human and he is
three. On these hard days when we break rather than bend, I remember this:
About a year ago, the boys and I were walking into
town. They were enjoying their stroller ride. I, on the other hand, was grouchy
and in need of coffee. Aidan asked to get out of the stroller and walk beside
me. I obliged his simple request. Shortly thereafter, he found a penny on the
ground. Pennies are treasures to him; he keeps them in a small, white piggy
bank. When he collects enough pennies, we roll them and bring them to the local
bank, where he receives a lollipop, preferably a blue one. It takes a long time
to collect enough pennies to fill a roll, and even longer time for us to get to
the bank, so finding one is a big deal for him. A few moments later, Aidan
spotted a dime on the ground right outside of the coffee shop. A dime! He
scurried over to collect it.
Once we were inside of the coffee shop, the baby
began whining and Aidan was fidgety. While I was ordering, Aidan repeatedly
tried to ask me a question. Annoyed, I ignored him. He was persistent. Finally,
I whipped myself around to face him, ready to snap when I see his fist
outstretched toward me. “Like to put this into the tip?” he hesitantly asked
me. At first, I did not comprehend what he wanted to do. It took me a minute to
calm down and figure it out, but then I got it. He wanted to put the money that
he had found into the tip jar. I was stunned by his simple act of kindness. I
did not even know that he knew what a tip was or that there was a tip jar. I
stood for a moment staring at him incredulously.
I bent down and asked Aidan if he was sure that he
wanted to leave his two treasures in the tip jar. I suddenly wanted to frame
them, but he was resolved in his intent. The cashier was appreciative, but I am
not quite sure that she understood what his gesture meant to me or him. It
meant that he would have to wait longer to get a blue lollipop. It meant that
even when I was not trying, he was getting something good out of our day. It
meant that I needed to slow down and not assume that he was going to misbehave.
Instead, I needed to believe in him, in his goodness, because I am his mama.
Mostly, it simply meant that we were going to be okay.
Now, whenever I feel angry or frustrated with Aidan,
I take a deep breath and think “eleven cents.” It has helped me to see him more
times than not. And then I bend a little, and so does he.
For more of Amy's guest posts here on Wish List, click HERE.
