We spent the day in town waiting for the windshield to be fixed. There was a delay and for that we even got a discount. But the day was long and hot. We stayed hydrated and we made the best of it without spending a ton of money.
We got home and the day was smooth. I took the first hot bath in over a year. I usually take showers and because the pool is closed, I didn’t get the chance to sit in a hot sauna. So a hot bath seemed so inviting after a day in the dusty city.
The girls played nicely. We got them treat, some clothing and then we made time to read.
The day was long and they could stay out and play till midnight if we let them. Other kids do. Thus they lose the track of time. Even and especially the little one run around, dis-regulated after 10 pm.
I had told the girls today is the day they will both take showers. Their hair is sweaty and their body really needs good rinse. But of course 9 pm is very late for the evening routine to be so complex. Alas, showers needed to be taken. We don’t make them take showers every night anyway. And truth be told, kids would otherwise not wash themselves 3 month straight if parents wouldn’t impose some hygiene.
I came out to check on them, and they were not in the room. Neither of them. I went into the bathroom and they were mopping up the floor, the farthest corner from the shower. “What happened?” I ask. “Just some water spilled.” “Where from?” I press. “The sink, alright?” “How?” I don’t want to tell you because you’ll scold me.”
I fight back my itching desire to know how something happened. I know it wouldn’t fix the issue. Thinking it through as a kid helped me not repeat the stupid mistakes. My kids want to put it behind them fast. Or so it seems to me. I don’t want my reaction to be their inner voice, though I know this is where we are headed. “Let’s clean this up together” “it’s not a bog deal” – I say this too. But I realize the memories there keep are of the instances where the accidents are silly & avoidable and I ask frustrated questions.
I have dropped things. Conrad had dropped a jar of honey with a loose lid. The mistake was so sticky and hard to clean and we worked in silence. The frustration turned into giggles because of how absurd his clumsiness was.
I am not hard on myself. When I left some crumbs of cheese on the counter because I had just made dinner and conrad saw them as he took his plate to the dishwasher he tried to corect me. And I was irritated with his bossy tone. At the end of dinner the kitchen is spotless. And I always do it. No matter who cooked. What is his problem? “I will clean it up as I always do” my tone said it all. He caught it. He almost said it was not called for – but it was true. I think no matter what we say, the tone and the heart with which we communicate can make or break an evening. And I realize we get into these situation when our communication is broken… we haven’t had some good reset of expectations. Or shared how we feel and how we would like to help or be helped.
I worry for my girls and their skills in wiping counters or properly cleaning after themselves. They seem or act halfhearted and I am tempted to think they do it this way so someone else steps in and do it for them. But I don’t think my tone is worth their attitude.
So today I plan to apologize for my tine last night in interrogating them what happened. There was water in the bathroom floor. That’s it. Let’s figure out how to wipe more efficiently with the sponges and the Lavette squares at our disposal.
Today we do a thorough cleaning of the three kitchen counters – because as a kid nobody shoed me and I wished I knew / saw how it’s done when I was a young adult. And not feel inept. Some things we learn the hard way but the consequences of burdening other adults to teach us are hard to wipe. “You don’t know how to clean… this or that?” That question asked by your roommate, mother in law, husband, best friend … maybe there is grace and they will forget you didn’t know …but I still remeber teaching young women (roommates) older than me how to clean the kitchen or the bathroom – and I wasn’t usually the one with the expertise. The question still lingers in my mind: “how did you become an adult without anyone teaching you this basic skill?”
We all have a chance to reset. To try again. To do better. Breaking habits is hard, for those learning and for those correcting. But we can’t give up. Giving up or not trying at all is the only option that leads to failure.