Last night I drove my 8 year old son to his baseball practice. He has been selected to play as part of the All Star team and they have a weekend long tournament and this will be their only practice as a
team before they face other All Star teams made up from his house league circle.
We just pulled out of the driveway and he asked me if I had the $30 required for the new jersey and hat. I assured him I did. Then he asked if I knew where the practice diamond was. I assured him I would find it and it wasn't too far away
"Thanks mom, I really appreciate you doing this."
"What?" I choked. He is 8.
"I really appreciate you doing this."
I felt like the sun being thanked for coming up each day.
'Um, hey, like, no problem, I am just hanging out here every day doing my job, no real choice in the matter....but um, like, you're welcome?'
And then, since I have been working on trying to just be---to allow thoughts to come and go with no judgement. On a wave came:
"I drive your brother to school and pick him up all the time and he NEVER says thank you!"
"My child has no idea how much these words fill me with joy and will probably fuel me for months as I feel that what I do as a mom is actually noticed by my child. I need to let him know how it makes me feel."
"I keep thinking as a mom I really have no choice here. I HAVE to drive them places, make lunch, pay for tournaments, go get project supplies, support fundraisers, attend practices, push them to apply for jobs, help them with OSAP applications, kiss scratches, hold heads when barfing and remove gauze from drunkenly drugged mouth after wisdom teeth are removed....twice, teach them to drive, catch, cook, do laundry, read, respect themselves, others, say excuse me and a million other things. Maybe all parents don't do these things. Maybe I am a good mom........................................................................................................................................................
Ka-POW!
WOAH....I AM A GOOD MOM."
I thanked my son for his words later that night when I had recovered the ability to speak. We were snuggled up (I am so lucky he likes to snuggle still), him all clean and soft. He hugged me and said:
"I am so happy I get to do this tournament and you are the one that makes that possible so of course I would thank you!"
Here is another day when a backhoe showed up to help me recognize, I AM A GOOD MOM.
Other posts that will make the backhoe reference make sense if you are wondering what the heck I am talking about--** this one is the direct reference but I listed them in order that will make the most sense. They are short...
Work in Progress
Removing the Bells and Shoring Up
Signs Your Foundation Needs Work
Small Victories**
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