Today I really enjoyed your laughter. As one of you ran circles through the house with a deafening squeal, I tried to hold back the scolding and complaining. I just watched you have fun as you ran through the house chasing the dog and then running as he chased you...one ear toward you waiting to hear you fall and then waiting to hear the tears fall. That happens often. Instead, I let you be and soaked in the craziness, the loudness and the laughter and let the chips (or kids) fall where they may.
Then I was in the kitchen and before I knew it I had two helpers. It would have been much faster and easier to do it all on my own, but I embraced your enthusiasm. I let you crack the eggs. Believe it or not, it's hard for a mom to do that sometimes. I simply watched closely, ready to scoop up the shell fragments that had fallen in the bowl along with the eggs. But you did fine. You didn't drop one bit of shell. And that's how you learned now to is by practicing it.
I need to back off and let you practice and learn. I'm still learning to do that after all these years. It was so satisfying to see your excitement in helping with stirring and mixing and reading the instructions. It was a help, not a hindrance. I try to look at your presence that way and I apologize for the times I don't recognize how much you're helping and how much you're learning.
This evening I saw this poem on a Facebook post. I try to live in the moment and enjoy all of you so the regrets will be fewer than the pleasant memories. I'm trying all the time. I don't always get it right. No mother does. I just hope I'm showing you along the way how much I love you and how much I love your company.
If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self esteem first, and the house later.
I'd finger paint more, and point the finger less.
... I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious and seriously play.
I'd run through more fields, and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.