Some days I wish I knew how to do this parenting thing. Last night it would have come in real handy. The pirates were pulling all kinds of stunts. I tried reasoning. I tried lecturing. I tried threatening with a seven o' clock bedtime the following night. Nothing. Worked. So then I gave up and laid down with them individually. I told them stories about how I was a scaredy-cat in first grade. And how I knew my oldest brother was the sweetest, most kind, human on the face of this planet - because he let me follow him around on the playground. I told them how I started crying in fourth grade when my third grade teacher thought I was a "bad kid" because I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time - and how embarrassed I was because every and any kid knows that fourth graders aren't supposed to cry. And then I told them about my friend Karla who was afraid of bouncy balls, and the swings in kindergarten...
...it worked like a charm. Fixed every single ailment we'd had only ten minutes earlier. But then as a bonus? I got to hear about the mean boys at lunch. And how Robs' super-descriptive words lead her team to victory in a vocabulary game. And when his little arms were wrapped around my neck, Erik told me just how much he loves me. It was absolutely delightful. (I told him the same.) So at 9:52ish when I quietly said good night, and their starry little eyes closed for the evening... I thought to myself:
...goodness gracious.
I'm perpetually reminded how little I know.
...but at least I'm learning.
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