Most Alive Monday: New Terrain
" Time and again you'll be stripped of your preconceptions, judgments, ideas, theories and opinions of motherhood and left to go straight on through the inexplicable experience itself"
- Karen Maezen Miller
Three years old is a whole new terrain. When things get bumpy (oh and they DO get bumpy), I try to hold a happy moment in my mind. Like this one above...watching Satch and R sharing a pizza together.
I made soup for dinner and since we didn't have any crusty bread in the house to go with it, I figured I would crumble up some soy bacon to sprinkle on top. Little did I know this would prove to be an unthinkable horror to my son who, upon my placing the bowl on the table, screamed and wailed, " NO NO NO it's broken...I don't eat broken...broken doesn't taste good". It was an unbelievable scene.
Note to self, add "broken things" to his list of loathes:
He insisted that we had more soy bacon. I begged to differ and pleaded my case. I validated his feelings. Still, he was inconsolable. This went on for some time until I completely lost my mind (as well as my hearing) so I went to the kitchen and nearly tore the freezer door off in anger and frustration looking for more soy bacon. Thankfully, I found another package of soy bacon (so now he thinks I'm a liar) and cooked a piece for him.
Then after listening to his lengthy monologue about how broken pieces don't taste good, he picked up his perfect and overly processed soy bacon slice and accidentally dropped it on the floor. It shattered into a million pieces and the whole ugly scene made an encore performance.
By the time I returned with yet another piece of perfectly formed soy bacon, my soup was cold. I kept wondering why the situation became so unnerving and what I could have done differently. Then I decided that instead of beating myself up over it, I would hold a thought of something that made me smile...Satch and his friend sharing a pizza.
*About Most Alive Monday: I've decided to make at least one "most alive choice" each day and post my favorite each Monday. This, of course, is to motivate me to consciously "live juicy"! I hope you'll join me and share your "most alive moment" in the comments section so we may inspire each other.
- Karen Maezen Miller
Three years old is a whole new terrain. When things get bumpy (oh and they DO get bumpy), I try to hold a happy moment in my mind. Like this one above...watching Satch and R sharing a pizza together.
I made soup for dinner and since we didn't have any crusty bread in the house to go with it, I figured I would crumble up some soy bacon to sprinkle on top. Little did I know this would prove to be an unthinkable horror to my son who, upon my placing the bowl on the table, screamed and wailed, " NO NO NO it's broken...I don't eat broken...broken doesn't taste good". It was an unbelievable scene.
Note to self, add "broken things" to his list of loathes:
- anything green
- anything that has so much as a speck of tomato sauce
- taking a bath
- wearing his coat
- using the potty
He insisted that we had more soy bacon. I begged to differ and pleaded my case. I validated his feelings. Still, he was inconsolable. This went on for some time until I completely lost my mind (as well as my hearing) so I went to the kitchen and nearly tore the freezer door off in anger and frustration looking for more soy bacon. Thankfully, I found another package of soy bacon (so now he thinks I'm a liar) and cooked a piece for him.
Then after listening to his lengthy monologue about how broken pieces don't taste good, he picked up his perfect and overly processed soy bacon slice and accidentally dropped it on the floor. It shattered into a million pieces and the whole ugly scene made an encore performance.
By the time I returned with yet another piece of perfectly formed soy bacon, my soup was cold. I kept wondering why the situation became so unnerving and what I could have done differently. Then I decided that instead of beating myself up over it, I would hold a thought of something that made me smile...Satch and his friend sharing a pizza.
*About Most Alive Monday: I've decided to make at least one "most alive choice" each day and post my favorite each Monday. This, of course, is to motivate me to consciously "live juicy"! I hope you'll join me and share your "most alive moment" in the comments section so we may inspire each other.
Labels: ds, most alive monday
8 Comments:
well that had me laughing pretty hard this morning. I have so many similar vignettes in my memory -minus the soy bacon. :>) 3 1/2 is turning out to be so very delightful. So when you are picturing a happy place, know that this too (broken bacon rebellions and such) shall pass!
Hang in there!
I love your blog. Amy :>)
fabulous.
love all of your quotes too.
Wow! This makes me think of when my, now 3 yr old, was about 1 1/2 she would freak out when I moved furniture or lifted boxes. You just never know what's going to set these little people off.
Oh my. I hate days like that.
thank you, kindred mamas. it's kind of like a roller coaster ride sometimes only not so much fun.
sigh.
xo
Such a sweet photo of Satch and R, Wendy, love Satch's expression, and beautiful processing.
parenting...a new developmental phase is just around the corner...i bet someday you'll miss this one....
Angela
I remember very clearly driving home in the car with Orlando... He was a bit younger, but in the same state as Satch-n-soy-bacon.
I pulled up to the house and he said/indicated, "Keep driving!"
"Keep driving?" I was already a bit panicked that he was going to freak out. Also, I didn't want to keep driving. I had been feeling relieved to be arriving home and was looking forward to getting in the house.
"Keep driving!! Keep driving!!!"
Well, okay, I thought. And I started driving some more.
Then Orlando started screaming, "No! No!"
"No driving?!"
"No, no, more driving!!"
And more crying, and more yelling.
I was getting more and more tense and completely wrapped up in the whole thing. I remember exclaiming with desperate sincerity, "Well, what do you want me to do!!??"
And it was right then that I decided we were going home. I felt full of compassion but also clarity.
"I know honey, you want to drive some more in a specific way. I wish I could do that right now. But Mama thinks it better for us both if we go home right now."
I feel a little uncomfortable sharing this anecdote because I do not mean to say, "You're the mom and YOU have to be in charge."
Because that's not what I got out of that moment. What I learned in that moment was about being centered amid the uncenteredness of my child.
I've spent the last four years learning the same thing, over and over, in many more myriad ways.
Oh my. I thought my son was only 2.5, but after reading this, I think he must have turned three when I wasn't looking. I can relate so much to this post! Sometimes the scenes are just over the top. I guess I should let go of the notion then that this will pass when he really does turn three, huh?
Post a Comment
<< Home