A Mama Doing A Good Job

Hello my favorites.

I was hit by a semi yesterday afternoon.  A semi of REALIZATION.  A force right between the eyes and a punch in the face.  There it was, written on the side of the semi:

I'm doing a good job.

I know, I know.  PUKE on a STICK, you say, for the love of all that's holy.  You keep telling US to stop effing worrying about it, why on earth do YOU get to keep questioning this?

I always worry about it, first of all.  My self-confidence on the mama scale is generally a 0-3. I pretend that I'm brimming over, but then fall to zeros when anyone questions or slightly criticizes any of my choices.  On the other hand, though, when anyone gives me ANY TYPE of compliment or validation, my stock soars; I turn to over-confidence and become easily the best mom in the entire world.  

Yesterday my validation came from a fun-size Halloween version of me.

I was cutting onions for the second meal of the week that I had made that day (yup, another homemade meal going straight into the freezer  - kicking ass and taking names), my eyes were watering and I was feeling silly.  I called out to Ollie, "Ollie!  Mama's crying!" just to see what would happen.  Well, nothing, wouldn't you know it, because the little twerp was watching Mickey Mouse's Clubhouse for the third time that afternoon (hey, you can't plan homemaking AND art projects at the same time, so O was on [maybe] his 18th hour of videos - whatever, negativos, stay on track) and was very, very involved.  I gave it up for a lost cause and went back to cutting.  One minute later I hear little steps and I look over.  Ollie's standing a few feet from me with a precious worried look.  He goes, "Mama?"  and timidly walks over to me and hugs my leg.  It was...oh gosh, it was just...stop it.  I mean, I immediately felt like the worst person in the world, obv.  I picked him up and hugged him, apologized and told him that I was fine.  He skipped back to daddy's iPad.

I felt like a total jerk, but then I realized how AWESOME it is that our baby has developed SYMPATHY.  And although it's a trait that is instinctual, maybe, just maybe, it's also a trait that's learned by showing.  I mean, would Ollie be so sympathetic if Doug and I were awful people?  Could it be that perhaps my husband and I had displayed sympathy enough that it got through to him?!  It's a nice little thought, isn't it?  I have a kind little kid and it made me think that maybe I'm not doing all that badly!

Then I got to thinking about what else he's done in the past couple of weeks.  He's developing into quite a wonderful little boy and Doug and I have both had a hand in it.

• He is learning that hard work pays off.  Because he did so well with peeing in the potty, he earned a prize.  That prize is two weeks old and still traveling to daycare with him every morning and sleeping with him every night.  He's so proud of himself!

• He treats small things pretty well.  He pets small things, like his smurf ("Murse"), his duck, or Bella (Chris' dog) and says "My baby Murse/duck/Bella."  Then he tries to cover them all with a washcloth or blanket and put them to sleep (or, in Bella's case, suffocation.  I said "pretty well").  
• He likes to keep his friends warm, what can I say.  He's been bringing his toys to bed with him.  One morning I found his Murse, a tractor, his Lightning McQueen car, a giraffe, a dog and a cow in bed with him.  Bella found a wrench in her bed.  (I'll pretend that was to keep both Bella and the wrench warm and not a Mafia-like warning).
• He likes to give fun surprises.  This morning, I pulled Woody and his cowboy hat out of my silverware drawer.  Yesterday, I found Ollie's tractor in my mixing bowls.  When I was doing laundry last week, I discovered the whole Little People Farm in his hamper (his new favorite hiding place).


Found in his hamper: rain boots, hammer, car, duplo block and 
his cousin's missing purse...





Found one morning while reaching for the milk...





• He's sweet.  The other night after the bath, Ollie patted me while I was drying him off and said, "My mama."  I smiled and he continued, "My mama.  My daddy.  My Chris.  My Bella.  My people."
• He's creative.  Papa Mickey brought him a tool bench last weekend from Michigan.  It was pretty magical to Ollie.  (He has a baby tool bench that we try to pass off as still usable.)  He's been using his new tools to fix everything in the house.  Even "screwing" band-aids onto my skin.  This weekend, he started using his tool bench for another activity: Hair Cutting Time.  Mr. Creativity even uses his drill as a hair dryer (and a beverage station if you tell him you'd like juice; the cups are duplo blocks).

• Whether it's "MAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" to the Muppets version of Bohemian Rhapsody, the Michigan Fight Song before bed, or Jesus Loves Me in the bath, he's got music in his bones.
• He's so emo.  Yesterday, Pink's overplayed song "Give Me A Reason" came on the car radio.  Ollie goes, "That's my jam!"  When it was over, he asked to listen to "his jam" again.  
• Yet, he's kind of tough.  He likes to show us his gigantic muscles.
• He's not really bilingual.  He greeted a squirrel the other day with, "Hola squirrel."
• He's gender-neutral.  When asked if he is a boy or a girl, he sometimes says he's a boy and sometimes a girl.  He says I'm half-boy and half-girl.  I'm pretty certain I can only be proud with that truthful assessment (and I'm questioning where he learned fractions).
• He's truthful.  "Oliver, did you poop?"  "No, Mama.  Just toots."  
• He's not shy.  He wanted to wear the super thick underwear that Gaga bought for him the other day.  We're not onto underwear yet, but he was so excited about it that I couldn't find a reason not to.  He made me strip him down to his socks, then strutted over to the door and giggled at his "undie-pants" in the mirror.  He would not allow more clothes, so I had to turn up the heat in the house.

• He has a sense of humor.  He is ALWAYS saying "that's so sih-wee!" (Let's keep him saying that instead of "that's so stupid.")  
• His manners can be completely spot on. At his parent-teacher conference the other day, Ms. Chelsea told us that he's always saying "please" and "thank you."   Yesterday he said "'Scuse me!" to a woman to get by, and she told him he was very polite.  This morning, when I asked him if he wanted a banana with breakfast, he said "No thank you, Mama."

My point is, no matter how much we know that we're doing the best we can at this parenting thing, I think everyone needs a little validation every once in a while.  Whether it's from your your son's teacher, a kind woman in line, your mother or even your child, it feels lovely to have affirmation.  After my eureka, I went to Target and told two people that they were doing a good job.  Both laughed and spoke to me like I was their new best friend.  There you go.  Turning the tables makes you feel great too.  Benefits all around!

I challenge you.  Tell someone that you normally wouldn't how great a job you think they're doing.  Tell your partner, tell your boss, tell your friend and then tell yourself.  

You're all doing a great job!

And here's some Autumn pictures to remind you how lovely the world is.

Pine Tree Apple Orchard with Uncle Ross, Aunt Heather and cousin Mason...

   

Raking leaves this weekend...