When the meal is over, the boys have been encouraged (instructed seems too harsh a word, but perhaps more true) to say, "May I be excused?" and then carry their dishes to the counter. Ian has been doing this for a while now, but Owen's just started within the last few months.
Ian usually finishes first and finds a spot on the small counter space next to the sink. Depending on the day, there can be a few more dishes lined up and waiting for extra dishwasher space.
Let's be real, I wash as few dishes as possible... that's what the dishwasher is for.
Anyway, I digress.
The firstborn places his plate on the counter and soon after Owen makes his way, the four feet journey, to the counter and places his dishes there. Since his eyes can't see the top of the counter, he pushes his dishes onto the counter as best he can, navigating to one side of his brother's.
It's a process that makes me wince inside each time. Not because Owen is at all clumsy. He's actually incredibly coordinated. The boy has yet to fall while riding his balance bike, although he daringly gathers speed and turns quickly. He's quite agile, for a 2.5 year old. But it makes me wince because he's carrying glass and dishes that can actually break. And yet, he has yet to harm a single one, I need not be so concerned.
All too often, though, I walk into the kitchen and find a half-filled glass of milk teetering on the edge of the sink, threatening to tilt backward toward the floor. And his bowl or plate so carefully balanced, straddling the sink and the edge of the counter, that I am astonished it has been placed by a boy so small without falling.
Each and every time I draw in a quick breath, move the accident waiting to happen to a safer location, and then remind the culprit to place it on the counter and not the sink.
In this current phase of life, I feel like the teetering dishes are a perfect symbol. With three young children, I rarely feel like I am ahead of the game. I find myself rushing toward things that seem to be toppling all day long. Children's tears, laundry overflowing from the hamper, dinner-time approaching, and navigating new experiences and life lessons for our children and ourselves in this life.
But even when things shatter, I know we'll be okay. It's happened before and it's sure to happen again. What's important is picking up the pieces, discussing what went wrong, and starting anew.
Ian usually finishes first and finds a spot on the small counter space next to the sink. Depending on the day, there can be a few more dishes lined up and waiting for extra dishwasher space.
Let's be real, I wash as few dishes as possible... that's what the dishwasher is for.
Anyway, I digress.
The firstborn places his plate on the counter and soon after Owen makes his way, the four feet journey, to the counter and places his dishes there. Since his eyes can't see the top of the counter, he pushes his dishes onto the counter as best he can, navigating to one side of his brother's.
It's a process that makes me wince inside each time. Not because Owen is at all clumsy. He's actually incredibly coordinated. The boy has yet to fall while riding his balance bike, although he daringly gathers speed and turns quickly. He's quite agile, for a 2.5 year old. But it makes me wince because he's carrying glass and dishes that can actually break. And yet, he has yet to harm a single one, I need not be so concerned.
All too often, though, I walk into the kitchen and find a half-filled glass of milk teetering on the edge of the sink, threatening to tilt backward toward the floor. And his bowl or plate so carefully balanced, straddling the sink and the edge of the counter, that I am astonished it has been placed by a boy so small without falling.
Each and every time I draw in a quick breath, move the accident waiting to happen to a safer location, and then remind the culprit to place it on the counter and not the sink.
In this current phase of life, I feel like the teetering dishes are a perfect symbol. With three young children, I rarely feel like I am ahead of the game. I find myself rushing toward things that seem to be toppling all day long. Children's tears, laundry overflowing from the hamper, dinner-time approaching, and navigating new experiences and life lessons for our children and ourselves in this life.
But even when things shatter, I know we'll be okay. It's happened before and it's sure to happen again. What's important is picking up the pieces, discussing what went wrong, and starting anew.
No comments:
Post a Comment