“Mom, I drew a picture and I didn’t like it so I put it in the trash. I forgot that paper has two sides and that artists always try again.”
Milo is really growing up and as a mom it is so hard to watch sometimes. He’ll be five in May. Over the past five years I have come to understand that I control a lot less than I thought I would. Parenting seems to be lessons in duality and letting go. Milo can be diabolical and sometimes down right mean. I occasionally ask myself, is this really my child? Could someone that I made really be so…so, terrible? I know that sounds bad. Let’s face it, I think most parents would be lying if they haven’t wondered how they’ve messed up their kids. Am I too strict? Am I too nice? Did I handle that tantrum calmly or like a crazy person trying to put out a fire with a eye dropper of water? Then, I take a deep breath, I let go, and I remind myself that he’s only been on the planet for four years and that he’s learning and it’s my job to calmly teach him not to say things like, “eww, that’s nasty.” in a valley girl voice when served a meal with something green in it.
He struggles sometimes, but his highs are remarkable and I might just be saying this because he’s my kid, he’s pretty neat and I like the way his mind works. I have a feeling that things won’t always be easy for Milo. He has to try out everything before he knows it’s not for him. His little heart gets broken easily and he gets mad when he’s hurt. But he’s also the kind of kid who spends three hours hand crafting 27 valentines for his classmates.
In the same day where I was convinced that I was going to lock him in his room until he graduated from high school, I saw my boy holding his little brother’s hand so that he doesn’t slip on the waterslide at the pool and waiting patiently every time Wyatt wanted to go down so that he had a safe set of hands to splash down into.