This is a sample of what my 10-year-old Anna scribbled at the table yesterday while I was washing dishes. There are artists on both sides of her family whose genes deserve much of the credit (sadly, they skipped right over me). Anna learned to draw from watching YouTube videos. It must be amazing to be able to pick up a pencil and create magic.
Once I entered middle age, I did myself the favor of dropping my high expectations. For every situation, I imagine the worst possible outcome, and the actual one is almost always better in comparison. When someone promises to do something, I brace myself for disappointment, and on occasion, I’m pleasantly surprised.
I haven’t schooled my children on this way of thinking yet, because they’re at that golden age where they expect the best out of their lives and the people in it. Watching it is bittersweet.
This morning, I held Bonnie, our Russian tortoise, up to my mouth, said, “Care for a Bonnieburger?” and took an imaginary bite out of her butt.
Anna watched, then replied, “She’s going to poop in your mouth.”
Real-life training is one of the most difficult parts of parenting. It’s always easier during those rare moments when they train themselves.
Anna (sighing at the scorched savanna of our backyard): “I wish we had a pool.”
Me: “You know what’s more valuable than a pool? Gratitude. You should be grateful that you are healthy with a big yard to play in with frogs hopping around in a pond. You have a swing set and a driveway with a basketball hoop and a brother and sister and a dog who’s begging for a walk. Rather than thinking of all the things you wish you had, you should focus on the things you do have.”
Anna: “Can we start that after we get a pool?”
One fun thing that’s been happening during the quarantine is that each of my three now has to plan, make, and serve dinner once a week.
This week, Anna decided to make spaghetti sauce–and much to her dismay, she discovered onions are a key ingredient in her favorite dish.
As she strapped on a pair of goggles, unpeeled the onion and pulled out the chopping block, here is a sample of her commentary…
“My fingers smell bad!”
“Why do we have to put in onions?” (“Because the onions are what gives it flavor.”) “Yeah…bad flavor!”
“I can’t see!”
“My nose tickles!”
“I’m getting dizzy!”
“I have to wash my fingers!”
“Are you writing down why we don’t have to put onions in our sauce?”
The good news is, soon enough I just might get out of the kitchen three nights a week. The bad news is, the veggies in this house can no longer be served in disguise.