Charlie, what are you eating? Why do you have chocolate on your mouth? Was their chocolate in that goody bag??
Must be sleepy to fall asleep while eating a lollypop…
Acceptance means that you
can find the serenity within
to let go of the past
with its mistakes and regrets,
move into the future
with a new perspective,
and appreciate the opportunity
to take a second chance.
Acceptance means that when
difficult times come into your life,
you’ll find security again and comfort
to relieve any pain.
You’ll find new dreams, fresh hopes,
and forgiveness of the heart.
Acceptance does not mean
that you will always be perfect.
It simply means that
you’ll always overcome imperfection.
Acceptance is the road to peace-
letting go of the worst,
holding on to the best,
and finding the hope inside
that continues throughout life.
Acceptance is the heart’s best defense,
love’s greatest asset,
and the easiest way to keep believing
in yourself and others.
~ Regina Hill
Sometimes Charlie is accepting and other times she is not. It’s my own acceptance that I place value upon. Can I accept my past? Sure. Do I accept myself? Most of the time. Do I anticipate Charlie accepting yourself in the future world we are all preparing her for? Absolutely. It doesn’t, however, take away my fear that she will feel badly about herself, or that other people will bring out her sadness and shame. There’s a very delicate line between teaching her right from wrong and making sure that I don’t make her feel bad about herself. My instinct, “No!” The aftermath, “It’s ok, Charlie, everything is ok, it’s just important for you to know that we don’t go through Mama’s wallet and crinkle up every important mini-document which it contains.” I lesson-give as I’m secretly mad at myself for leaving my purse where her little hands can reach. It’s a strenuous activity to constantly be teaching the little one how things work and which rules apply. She’s only been on this planet for two years. I’ve worn braces for a longer time than that. Even at two, I see how important it is for her to play with peers. I was fiddling around in another room yesterday, doing laundry, organizing papers, thinking about scrubbing the toilet, any of the above, and I noticed the little one had been quiet for some time. I looked downstairs and she had herself crouched into a corner, with one of my boxes up against her. In her little “cubby” with her, she had the party bag we had gotten from the birthday party we attended earlier in the day. She saw me and said, “Come in,” with the emphasis on in and her little voiced raised. I said, “Where do you want me to come?” We were talking about a space no larger than a computer screen here and she pointed to it and said, “Here…” I said, “Ok,” And put my foot right where it could fit in her little spot. I crouched down. She gave me one of those party blowers, a gold one. You know, the ones that roll out with streamers on the end when you blow into them. She handed me the gold one and she pulled out the red one. She put mine up to my mouth. This is where it struck me that friends are so important, even to a 2-year-old, because friends will let you get away with so much more than your parents will. No wonder kids feel like they can be themselves around their friends, because their friends don’t reprimand and their friends don’t know them as well as their parents do. Friends allow for experimentation and friends bring their own level of self-absorption to the table, that allows for natural leadership to blossom, as well as the need to be a follower sometimes. I thought about what it would be like to be a “non-parent”, and how my little girl, I mean, my friend, just wanted to role-play and be equal and hide away in a club house that had complimentary party blowers. “Ok, on the count of 3, we’ll both blow. One… Two… Three!” After a few blows, she took my gold one and gave me her red one. This activity turned more than hilarious when Daddy came along and Charlie told him to “come in.” Needlesstosay, Daddy’s big foot didn’t make the cut.
Me and Charlie have fun together. She laughs when I do funny voices, and yet she’s conforming to the instantaneous switch between funny Mama and abrasive Mama. We can be laughing and playing but the second things get carried away, enter Charlie’s quick jab to the face, or running away from me in a public place, Mama must react… must teach… must keep little ones’ self-acceptance high but make point… make it memorable…. must use the words important and understand and love. Back to playing and laughing and letting that leash move farther away from my grasp.
As far as picking the grapes for Nonno’s wine goes, in response to my question of, “What the @#$% is up with all the bees?” Nonna says, “How do you think this gets done?”
Charlie crushes the grapes
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Diagnosis during pregnancy 