Today there is no power. No electricity anywhere on a 5 mile radius. They are fixing the power lines… or something. It’s ironic and a little ridiculous. My brother asked me what am I going to do with the food in the fridge that will go bad. Luckily, I haven’t gone shopping. The fridge is nearly empty. Conrad took J to kindergarten and stayed in town to work on his laptop at a cafe. I love being home alone. I always did. And I often was. I can’t believe in my mid thirties I have abundant time at home, to read, to write. No power, no running water. I got to vacuum just before the power went out.
So I sit here and read. Read to my heart’s delight. I have enough. I have enough and I am probably the happiest. I often think I’m the happiest then. It’s a good feeling to acknowledge. I take Rufus for walk in the morning and I marvel at the beautiful light washing the green fields. The light wind, perfectly cool in the summer. My heart is grateful, my mind is aware… I don’t verbalize it or write it down to immortalize my joy. Except now. I do it in the spirit of the book I’m reading.
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“Gratefulness precedes miracles.” Says a book I’m reading about *A thousand gifts. In parallel I’m reading another book by Steinhardt , which says “ungratefulness is a big sin. But to expect the gratitude of someone you’ve done a good deed to, that’s an even bigger sin”.
Gratefulness doesn’t come natural. It’s learned. It’s practiced. (See Philip.4:11)
I’ve caught myself saying, observing, that the more gifts (play time, fun, experiences, material things) my daughter receives in a day, the less grateful, and actually obnoxious she gets. How can I teach her awareness and gratitude? (Though she reflects me, us, human nature all too well. The more we have, the more we want, as we embark in the carousel of frenzy wants and needs and satisfaction)
Reading these books I realize that I desire and expect her gratitude. And that is what twists my perception of her attitude. Another guy was quoted by Steinhardt, Marcel Jouhandeau said “the most wretched state: to believe that something is owed to you, to expect something from others, no matter how small that is”. Guilty as charged.
I realize gratefulness is the process of a lifetime. Except for the gentle reminders, I can only teach by example. There’s no other effective way. And it’s not about teaching her, as it is about teaching my own heart the joy of gratefulness.
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I glance out the window, I remember yesterday and I laugh. Yesterday I picked Jackie up from kindergarten. Walking to the car she said she wants to go to the park. I said no. Not right then. I made pizza and we needed to go home to eat. As we got to the car she screamed with defiance: “I said I want to go to the park!” I patted her bum with vigor. Once. She stoped screaming. I buckled her in. I got in the driver seat and I said: “we do not negotiate and win things in our family by screaming. If i was on the fence about what to do, now for sure we are not going to the park. That is not an ok way to ask for anything”. She pouts. Her grumpy attitude lingers. “I had a good day. I don’t know what kind of day you had!” (I can’t help but chuckle). We talk it through and then she says: “I would love to go home and try your pizza”. She had a good attitude the rest of the day.
I wonder sometimes if I am adding to her trauma. God in his wisdom must have paired us up according to each other’s needs, heart’s needs and journey to become holy.
I never thought I could yell or get angry as I did as a mother. I woke up one day the mother of a toddler. I have reached my own limits and gained control over my own emotions now… but there was a time when I didn’t know how we’re going to make it. Conrad and I fought more, often under our breath, but the atmosphere was think enough to make J ask why are we fighting. Very perceptive this one!
So I yelled in the car a couple of times. After the diffident visit at the dentist, and another time when she picked her lip bloody at kindergarten and lied about it. I’m not finding excuse. I’m merely putting my yelling them in context. Why do I yell when I drive? Does Jackie yell because she saw me doing it? Am I traumatizing Jackie with my yelling? I have thought of myself as a crazy mother. But for the most part I try my best to be a good enough mother. And as I watch my little girl, and I delight in her and I love her, and I meet her needs, I fulfill them, emotional, physical, spiritual … today, in this season of beautiful childhood, at the end of most days I say: “today, by God’s grace, I was a good enough mother”. Past that, I don’t worry. I pull myself back into present and enjoy it.