Not Letting Our Childhood Burdens Become Our Kids’ Burdens

Photo of a white woman taking a selfie of herself in a mirror that says "There is no foot too small that it cannot leave an imprint" Text: "Not Letting Our Childhood Burdens Become Our Kids' Burdens"

“Why do all of these people already have friends?” I thought to myself looking around the elementary school cafeteria during parents night for kindergarten. Clumps of parents sat at long tables, chatting away. Even my anti-social husband had wandered off to talk to someone he knew from preschool. I stifled the urge to get out my phone and stare urgently at the screen. Instead, I read the multi-colored handouts with an intense stare. Being there brought back so many experiences that color my perspective on my kids today.

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Finding the Place I’d Been Looking for Far Closer than I Imagined

Finding the Place I'd Been Looking For (photo of a young boy walking on rocks through a stream)

A quiet stream with gurgling water, a spattering of rocks along the bottom. My young child plays nearby, the water just high enough for him to splash in without worrying about him getting hurt. I sit on a rock, my baby nestled in my arms.

I opened my eyes to a prenatal yoga class full of other heavily pregnant women. I struggled to stand up from where I was snuggled into a nest of yoga pillows and blankets.

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On Entering 2021 as a New Year

Photo: Two kids sledding down a small hill in the snow Text: On Entering 2021 as a New Year
“Oh God, I can’t sing this,” I laughed, amazed at the off-key pitch I was attempting. But still, we continued. “Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king,” I warbled badly, along with my husband and two kids with nothing resembling harmony.
Yet it was still beautiful. In the past, I would have done it but been embarrassed or ashamed. I would have frowned and grumped. But despite my laughing at myself, I was smiling and proud. Proud that my kids loved singing with me despite my voice. Proud that my kids hadn’t yet found that shame. Proud that I’ve so far managed to teach them to take deep pleasure in these moments together. Proud that we could be together and still enjoy each other’s company.
I can’t say that I’ve learned much from this year.

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Learning to Let Others Take Care of Us

Text: Learning to Let Others Take Care of Us; Photo: Young child with a bear hat on his head and white woman with a computer on her lap sitting outside on a box

 

“Just let me take care of you!” I yelled at my four year old as I chased him around our beanbag chairs. I was trying to get him to let me put a cold-pack on his forehead, which was rapidly developing quite the goose egg.

Those words echoed in my head as I argued with my own mom a few days later. A pipe in our basement was clogged. Every time we drained our kitchen sink, water filled with food particles spewed up from a pipe behind the washing machine. Lovely. My mom was worried that if we ran the washing machine, it too would make the flooding worse.

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Seeing Clearly Despite It All

The end of summer sun filters through the needles of the big pine tree, throwing shadows on the green weeds in front of me. The cicadas trill out, calling to each other in their waning days. The clear sky spreads overhead, stretching out to the autumn season so close that you can taste it in the cooling air.

“I just farted! I just farted!” My younger son’s voice rings out over the neighborhood from the blow up pool in our front yard.

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