Do you ever miss being a kid? I'll admit that I really don't think about it much. My childhood was fun and full of drama at the same time. Interspersed with the happy moments of playing with my friends until dark and drawing hopscotch on the sidewalk, is the memories of my mom sitting in a corner of a dark room crying and having potato soup every night for a week because there wasn't enough to eat in our house.
Childhood was somewhat bittersweet for me. I grew up not knowing my real dad. I fell madly in love with my mom's first husband, who eventually cheated on her, got mixed up in drugs, and died a homeless vet roaming the city streets - hardly father of the year. And then I spent my pre-pubescent years scowling at my mom's second husband and picking fights with him throughout high school. I took all my resentment out on him, and although sometimes he deserved it, most of the time he didn't.
But I also remember holding all-day dance contests in my cousin's front yard, complete with a sheet of cardboard to "break-dance" on to the tunes coming out of our "boombox". Fun times. And sitting on the back patio in the scorching sun eating a popsicle, feeling it drip down my arms and onto my bare legs and then jumping in the pool to rinse it all off. While inside the house my family was falling apart.
For a kid with a childhood like that... the good memories were a lifeboat to happiness.
The resilience of children has never been more clear to me than when I became a mom. Wiping tears from faces that just got skinned from falling off a bike, kissing a papercut that has already begun to heal but needs a batman bandaid, well just because it feels better, and playing barbies with my daughter because she had a fight with her best friend --- these are the moments when my heart breaks because more than anything I want to protect my children from any pain. But then five minutes later they are up and running and laughing again... whatever hurt received quickly forgotten. And that makes me smile.
I realized tonight that I am doing a good job of protecting them and encouraging happiness, because despite being involved in a nasty custody dispute with their father, my children are oblivious to it. I fill their days with activity and stories and love and kisses and hugs - tucking them warmly into bed at night, so that they don't doubt for one second that they are loved and cared for. They don't have to worry about whether mommy is sad again or whether there will be something new on the dinner table tomorrow night. They have the security to know that their every need will be met.
Does their mom sit in a corner and cry? I'll admit that sometimes I do, but it's when they aren't around to see or worry about it. Have I worried about where I'll find food to put on the table? Since becoming a single mom, yes I have been there a time or two as well. But it's not something they ever see or realize. I protect them so that they can do what kids are suppose to do... play and learn and experience the wonders of our world.
And somehow, through them, I am getting to experience my childhood over again - well at least the good parts. That's my reward for being their mom.
Childhood was somewhat bittersweet for me. I grew up not knowing my real dad. I fell madly in love with my mom's first husband, who eventually cheated on her, got mixed up in drugs, and died a homeless vet roaming the city streets - hardly father of the year. And then I spent my pre-pubescent years scowling at my mom's second husband and picking fights with him throughout high school. I took all my resentment out on him, and although sometimes he deserved it, most of the time he didn't.
But I also remember holding all-day dance contests in my cousin's front yard, complete with a sheet of cardboard to "break-dance" on to the tunes coming out of our "boombox". Fun times. And sitting on the back patio in the scorching sun eating a popsicle, feeling it drip down my arms and onto my bare legs and then jumping in the pool to rinse it all off. While inside the house my family was falling apart.
For a kid with a childhood like that... the good memories were a lifeboat to happiness.
The resilience of children has never been more clear to me than when I became a mom. Wiping tears from faces that just got skinned from falling off a bike, kissing a papercut that has already begun to heal but needs a batman bandaid, well just because it feels better, and playing barbies with my daughter because she had a fight with her best friend --- these are the moments when my heart breaks because more than anything I want to protect my children from any pain. But then five minutes later they are up and running and laughing again... whatever hurt received quickly forgotten. And that makes me smile.
I realized tonight that I am doing a good job of protecting them and encouraging happiness, because despite being involved in a nasty custody dispute with their father, my children are oblivious to it. I fill their days with activity and stories and love and kisses and hugs - tucking them warmly into bed at night, so that they don't doubt for one second that they are loved and cared for. They don't have to worry about whether mommy is sad again or whether there will be something new on the dinner table tomorrow night. They have the security to know that their every need will be met.
Does their mom sit in a corner and cry? I'll admit that sometimes I do, but it's when they aren't around to see or worry about it. Have I worried about where I'll find food to put on the table? Since becoming a single mom, yes I have been there a time or two as well. But it's not something they ever see or realize. I protect them so that they can do what kids are suppose to do... play and learn and experience the wonders of our world.
And somehow, through them, I am getting to experience my childhood over again - well at least the good parts. That's my reward for being their mom.
Weeeee!
Is there anything more free than this?
Jenna doing what she does best
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