Sam and I are pretty normal, as far as parents go. Maybe not in every decision we make, but in the way that, after so many Critical Parenting Moments, we look at each other and say, "Shit. Did we just blow that one?"
We are our own worst critics and it sometimes feels like when it comes to raising our children we can't do anything right.
And then something happens that makes me realize We're Going To Be Okay.
The kids? They're fine. Better than fine, even.
That something happened today.
After school the kids grabbed snacks and one device or another and settled in for some down time as I went through their school work. Notices from school, check-marked homework assignments, assorted classwork...the usual, but with an unexpected Jackpot at the end of the pile: an entire semester's worth of kindergarten writing workshop stories.
Kindergarten writing is My Favorite. I love the drawings, the invented spellings, the absurdity of the plotlines as they develop over the course of two whole sentences (Prisses Kate is runing away for a reesin. Froo the nite she ran and it was day agen. The End.). But really, I love how writing, for any age, is a little open window into the heart of the writer.
My heart burst when I read this next story. Maxwell's wide open heart, spilled out over the pages of a Kindergarten Writing Workshop writing frame.
|I love myself because I don't want to be someone else.|
And the tears filled my eyes. I continued to read.
|Molly and Evan are the best. We all like the same things.|
As I flipped the page and read the next words, the tears, they ran hot.
|I love my mom and dad. They can do anything.|
...and I was ugly crying.
|I love my family. No one is better.|
...over a school folder.
We're not perfect parents. His perfect heart, however, reminds me that we're doing okay.