Early lessons to remember
Oct. 10th, 2009 10:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ciroccojIt's a very ancient saying,
But a true and honest thought,
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught.
- The King and I
Thanksgiving 1999, Daniel was two and a half. He had been looking forward to Thanksgiving for weeks. We had told him that there would be turkey, and stuffing, and pie, and Luli and Guy, and various friends and relatives he loved, and it was going to be so much fun, and and and.
Thanksgiving Day dawned and Chris was on call, as per usual. I was around seven months pregnant, and run ragged from working two jobs and essentially being a single parent running a Bed & Breakfast for a medical student. We got up, got breakfast, and I started tidying and preparing and organizing and cleaning and Daniel stop that and putting away toys and Daniel! Stop it! I just put that away! and cooking and DANIEL! Don't touch that! and scrubbing and No I can't read you a story! and wiping and DANIEL! Put that away! and stirring and NO! I can't play with you!!
"Mama," Daniel finally says curiously, "is Thanksgiving a bad day?"
Full stop.
Damn it.
I picked him up and told him it wasn't supposed to be. Then I closed the doors to the rooms that weren't going to be part of Thanksgiving anyway and thus had no reason to be spotless unless I was paranoid about nosy dinner guests going up, opening them and passing judgement on my housekeeping skills, put the mop away because the kitchen floor was clean enough, and sat down to read to him.
It's one of the earliest lessons he taught me. Let's hope I keep it in mind today, and make this about having a good time together, and being grateful for each other and for what we have, rather than trying to impress Martha Stewart with my Perfect Hostessness and making everyone around me miserable.
But a true and honest thought,
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught.
- The King and I
Thanksgiving 1999, Daniel was two and a half. He had been looking forward to Thanksgiving for weeks. We had told him that there would be turkey, and stuffing, and pie, and Luli and Guy, and various friends and relatives he loved, and it was going to be so much fun, and and and.
Thanksgiving Day dawned and Chris was on call, as per usual. I was around seven months pregnant, and run ragged from working two jobs and essentially being a single parent running a Bed & Breakfast for a medical student. We got up, got breakfast, and I started tidying and preparing and organizing and cleaning and Daniel stop that and putting away toys and Daniel! Stop it! I just put that away! and cooking and DANIEL! Don't touch that! and scrubbing and No I can't read you a story! and wiping and DANIEL! Put that away! and stirring and NO! I can't play with you!!
"Mama," Daniel finally says curiously, "is Thanksgiving a bad day?"
Full stop.
Damn it.
I picked him up and told him it wasn't supposed to be. Then I closed the doors to the rooms that weren't going to be part of Thanksgiving anyway and thus had no reason to be spotless unless I was paranoid about nosy dinner guests going up, opening them and passing judgement on my housekeeping skills, put the mop away because the kitchen floor was clean enough, and sat down to read to him.
It's one of the earliest lessons he taught me. Let's hope I keep it in mind today, and make this about having a good time together, and being grateful for each other and for what we have, rather than trying to impress Martha Stewart with my Perfect Hostessness and making everyone around me miserable.
