More than bunnies.

For all of the nail biting I do as a parent, there are moments where the planets are aligned perfectly and I can let go of the breath I'm holding. And even though they're only moments in the grand scheme of hours and days and weeks and months, these moments somehow sustain me as if they were events that last longer than the fleeting seconds they're actually comprised of.

Yesterday held one of those such moments.

I've been fighting a particularly ardent battle of wills with Spawn as of late, and I don't know if it's seemed harder because of Spawn's high spirits or because I'm feeling ground down. Whatever the case, it seems that I've been on the kid's case a lot more than usual here lately, and whenever we get locked into this pattern I end up feeling like a particularly bad parent, a parent who can't seem to do anything but correct and discipline. It sucks the joy right out of my soul, to be that parent.

But Spawn has a way of restoring some of the joy with a look or a word or a touch, or a combination thereof. Yesterday as I was in the role of Drill Sergeant Mom, emotionally and physically shoving Spawn toward getting ready for church (we have been out of the habit, and when you are out of the habit it gets quite difficult to motivate yourself to get back in), Spawn stopped me dead in my tracks with a hug and a kiss and these words: "I love you more than bunnies."

Hmm. How about that.

I don't know where that phrase came from, but Spawn's been saying it to me almost from the moment first words became first sentences. And if you really think about it, what could be a sweeter sentiment, because most of us regard bunnies as soft and cute and pretty innocuous and how could you not love a bunny, even a little bit? It speaks volumes to me about the depth of the kid's love for me, even when I'm not being a perfect parent. That I could be doing it all wrong, yelling and being punitive, with a frown on my face most of the time, and still merit such simple, uncomplicated love from the one person who would be well within rights to withhold such affection from me... boggles my mind.

Now, it didn't make Spawn any easier to deal with from that point on, because the kid is in a stubborn, I'll-do-it-my-way mode of thinking right now. But it did give me the strength to keep on going. And it forced my brain to get off the path I had been on and try a new one. Sunday afternoon was less angst-ridden.

I often indulge in "what if" thinking, extrapolating what our lives would be right now if we'd never had a baby. Certainly, we'd have a lot more money. We'd probably have traveled quite a bit, too. We would be on track to retire at 50. I might have gotten my book written, or learned to paint, or gotten into the best shape of my life. But would it be possible to have my faith restored in myself just with one simple phrase?

I highly doubt it.




-- Mox