We play a game every night at dinner –day in and day out, we make our kids share what’s on their heart. It’s called “Peak and Pit” and many of you parents probably have a similar ritual.
But last night my kid’s answers to the game was by far the PEAK of my day.
Maybe it’s because I’m reading a book called Thirty Days to Live. Now, just to be clear, I’m not dying –or at least not dying any more than any other day.
So here’s what my munchkins said…
“Allright kids, what went well for you today?”
“Me first, me first,” cried little Kolby, “the best part of my day was park with mama.”
My middle daughter Faith chimed in, “My best part of the day was watching “Ellen” with mommy and rubbing her head because she had a migraine.”
Kyle, my oldest son followed suit. “I had a great time at the park with mom too. I trained agility (that’s football speak for a workout) and mom sat on the blanket and it was fun to have her watch me.”
And I know this sounds dumb, but (for me) it was HUGE PROGRESS.
I am not by nature spontaneous and carefree. I like to have an agenda and cross tasks off my list. My daddy taught me “piss poor planning means failure” or PPMF. My plan makes me feel SAFE and in control.
But my kids were saying the best part of their day was mom deviating from her agenda.
First, I planned on going to the gym at 4:00pm. I had worked all day, put dinner in the crock pot and I desperately wanted to run and lift and release for an hour. My gym-time was scheduled in ink and my butt needed to be on a treadmill for both sanity and heart maintenance.
But a brutal headache interrupted.
So, I sat on the ground, munched on Advil and let my daughter watch TV with me. Generally we have strict rules about homework and no TV during the week (possibly because this child’s favorite thing to do is watch bridal design shows for eight hours straight).
Faith was ecstatic at the change of plans. My sweet girl saw me struggling and asked if she could rub my head.
UMMMMM…..YESSSS!!!!
So, we bonded and loved and laughed over Ellen (who is probably the funniest human being ever). And eventually my head hurt less.
Then my son came down stairs with his workout clothes on and I offered to take him and Kolby to the park.
We picked up Kolby from pre-school, handed her a sippy cup with milk and surprised her with a trip to the park.
To a three year-old the word “park” is like “walk” to a dog. She yipped the whole way there.
We made pretend ice cream in the sand and Kolby bossed me around, mainly because she’s a mini-control freak just like her mama.
My son put out his cones on the grass and I watched him dance around them and sweat buckets in awe. This almost 200 lb man with the bulging biceps and ripped abs is my little boy –all grown up. WOW.
I wrote in my journal yesterday, if I only had one day to live I would be more present. I would be spontaneous, seize the moment and love my family with all my heart.
Interruptions are messy, relationships take work, and loving my kids in their love language (bridal shows with cuddles, toddler play, and watching my son run around cones) isn’t easy for me. Although I adore my kids, I get way too caught up in giving them what I think they need –a clean house, warm meals, money in the bank, and structure.
Sometimes what they really need is just me.
And at least for this one day, my kids noticed I was more available.
How would you act differently if you only had one day to live?
