my unlucky, red tights.
I tried to explain that if they continued misbehaving we would have to stay at home each day.
No more trips to the park, to the carousel, to the candy store.
One thing that I am learning is that young children do not keep score. They do not add up all the nice things their parents do for them, or track their possessions and who gifted them. They do not feel bound to act based on the actions of others. We have not yet taught them how to feel obligated.
My threat to discontinue my efforts to make them happy if they did not try to make me happy in return, and similar threats I will make, will eventually teach them to act out of obligation.
That is not my wish. I hope to teach them to consider the feelings of others just because they care. Because their hearts are loving and compassionate.
At times our children may not seem to care about our feelings but I am realizing that their perception is even more limited than an adult male's intuition about a woman's feelings.
But they kiss my cheeks when I cry.
I conclude that my loving actions must not be attached to their reactions. If I am to help them to be true to their already kind hearts, I must show them true kindness; that is, performing loving acts without the expectation of reciprocation.
Not that I shouldn't expect them to behave. They should behave. But more for their own good; so that they can find a place in a world of rules. Not because they owe me anything.
Each time I wear my red tights I have a terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad day.
I didn't learn anything that day. But I received the experience that is helping me internalize the things I'm learning this very moment. Now that time has passed since this perceived disaster of an outing, I'm becoming aware of the need to revisit events in a different mindset.
If we want to become better we must take time to reflect.
Well loved advice from the Alcoholics Anonymous program, which can be a guide not only to recovering from addiction but also purging our hearts, reminds us each to continue to take personal inventory and when we are wrong, we promptly admit it (step 10).
Our trials, and our progression through them, really are gifts. So long as we choose to see them that way.
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p.s. Do you mind if I post a link to this post on my blog for other mommies to read?
go here, i saw this an immediately thought of you.
Love you,
Brie