When I got my babies up every morning I squished them with hugs and kisses and plopped them in their high chair for a breakfast routine, complete with a face scrubbing afterwards and play for them while I went to cleaning up the mess. Did I set them up for a lifetime of routine, unbreakable and unflexible. Or a lifetime of refusing to adhere to anything that remotely resembled a schedule.
When I sat and read them story after story with rhymes (my favorite) or placing their pudgy fingers on words to follow along….. Did I set them up for a love of reading like me, as I hoped. Or did I deter them from ever having the desire to sit still long enough to lose themselves in the curiosities and wondrous fascinations of other’s imaginations. Did I send them off wanting to find their own adventures. Or did I make them dread the thought of something other than the reality of what is right here in their own world.
When I sent them off to school every single day. With lunches packed, with little notes, or lunch money to buy the school lunch that made them feel more “big”. Did I help them feel prepared to deal with living in a world where I wasn’t. Or did I make them feel like I was sending them away. Even though I was there for them every day upon their return. Or every day should they become ill. Did the world without me begin to look better. Or did the world they returned to, where I was, look all the better because of the world I sent them off to.
When we sat down for dinner every single night, at the same table, with the same people, as a family. Did I help them understand that as a family we come together and laugh and yell, and nourish, and share, and make fun of and congratulate, and grow. Or did I make them wish we would hurry up so they could get to the television, or the phone, or outside, or do whatever it is they wanted to do instead of eating dinner.
When I made them do their homework and help with things around the house did I teach them responsibility. Or did they learn to resent me and the constraints I put on life instead of seeing life as a free for all. Did I tie down their free spirit?
When I put them to bed saying their prayers and singing Amazing Grace did I send them to bed with love and security. Or a terrible fear of off key singing and nightmare’s of tone deaf musicians.
What I did to my kids. I loved my kids. As best as I could. It was a feeling. It was an action. It was a prayer. It was a plan. It was instinct. It was hope. Sometimes I was confident. Sometimes I was terrified.
Whatever I did to my kids I would do it again.
It must have been okay.
They’ve both said to me they have no idea what they were thinking. They would gladly go back to me doing everything. They had it so easy and so good when I was the one taking care of everything.
Yes. I would do it again.