When I was a very young mom back in the Eighties, I often drew writing inspiration from my two children. To honour Mother’s Day, I am publishing a couple of short pieces from my 1980’s archives. In this second post, I offer this observation on my son.
Oh, the exuberance of youth! Anyone who observes my four-year-old boy would probably echo that sentiment.
Each morning he rises early, eager to greet the new day, full of curiosity and mischief even in the routine. His giggling laughter while he plays with his father rings through the house, as I prepare his breakfast. His never-ending questions – which must be answered – abound as he plays with his cereal and wriggles on his chair. And throughout his busy day, his sense of humour shines through, laughing at me even as I scold him.
Sometimes, when disciplinary measures are taken, there is a challenging, defiant gleam in his eye, and I wonder if I will ever be able to control this curly-haired little bundle of energy.
But then I stop myself and question my motives. Do I really want to control him? I would much rather guide him as he learns everything he needs to know, not hold him back. I want him to be inquisitive and bright, and never feel pressured to curb his natural desire to reach out and experience life and all it has to offer him.
After all, isn’t that what growing up is all about? ♥
Is it just me, or does anyone else out there feel like it’s been a gazillion years since your kids were little?