Falling Ducks

Do you mean the time awhile ago, ok ten minutes ago, when Kainoa peed in the air vent?  Or are you referring more to the defiant moments of “definitely not” being willing to change brother’s diaper?  Oh, I bet you’re talking about things like when the 2 year old kid we call our own uses gluestick as chapstick and loves it.  What kind of “mistakes” do you mean?

But I suppose the best example is the real one.  We were in the shower, the three of us.  I dropped the squeaky light up smiley bright yellow rubber duckie right on your head, Malana.  “Oh sorry!” I said nonchalantly, knowing the less reaction given by me would, in a perfect world, create no reaction from child.  Not expecting much of a verbal reply but instead bracing myself for potential tears, I was surprised. “That’s ok, Mom.  Everyone makes mistakes.  No matter what you do, I will love you.”

So Malana, what I’m trying to figure out is what kind of mistakes are you talking about?  How much can I get away with in this thing we call parenting?  “It’s a guilt trip, this mothering business,” was the wise advise from my own mother as my belly swelled up for the first time.  

I admit, my daughter’s forgiving attitude puts me off the hook a bit.  I mean, I used to think I was, well, going to be a supportive wife, a creative mother, and a active society contributor.  After the 437th poopy diaper change, my self expectations slipped down a notch or ten.  Do I dare admit that my once squeaky clean mouth has been the avenue for some carefully chosen colourful words, on special occasion?  And that it feels GOOD to have said them?  And that silly television.  The one I thought would never turn on.  So maybe I learned how to turn it on and flip to Bob the Builder.  In fact, the littles might just be curled up watching a video right now.  I promise, it’s educational.  And that image I had of the successful, well dressed wife / mother?  Well, truthfully, I can’t even find my pants that aren’t sweats.  I have chocolate in the house and cheese in the fridge and I’m not afraid to use them.   My keeping-it-cool attempts fail miserably when in the bank with two kids who haev meltdowns simultaneously.  

Basically, I’m not who I thought I’d be.  

But, Malana, you said that everyone makes mistakes.  So what kind of mistakes can I make?  Sometimes I don’t get the diaper on in time to save a dirty air vent, and other times you plainly say “no” to me.  Sometimes I also get confused and might as well be using a gluestick as chapstick too.  But there must be something that overpowers these large and small mistakes we call our home.  

Because when I ask you to watch your brother when I go to put out the recycling, you say “Of course.  Can you put him closer to me?  I love taking care of my best friend.”  

So damnit by golly, the love that pulses in and out of you confirms the truth of your words.  

Inspired by Malana, I say to myself today, It's ok.  Everyone drops a duck or two here and there.