Much of a mother’s day is spent guarding the precious little ears and eyes in her care, against negative words and images. Such hyper vigilance sounds like an all-consuming, exhaustive task, yet it is second nature, much like breathing. Loving these little beings is not something that you choose, but something that you cannot imagine your life without. Motherhood rips you apart, builds you back up, and never lets you go.
Parenting is a blessing that comes with deep fear, panic, sleeplessness, worry, peace, contentment, and soul changing joy and love. Despite all of the moments of defeat, when we throw our hands up in the air, sit on the bathroom floor and cry, or hang our heads and pray, the laughter, the discoveries, the adventures, the conversations, and sweet tenderness rounds out the beauty of being your little person’s person.
My little love and I frequently sing about the wise man who built his house upon the rock. I know that she doesn’t understand the significance of what she’s singing, but she knows where the wise man is supposed to build his house. Every moment that we intentionally filter and purposefully inform our little ones, we are laying positive foundations and allowing their own wisdom to sprout roots.
The similarities between this song and The Three Little Pigs has not been lost on my little person, and she often transposes the two, when either singing or story telling. A few days ago, as we were driving, we were having a conversation about a homeless man who we’d just given a granola bar too. She was peppering me with questions about why he doesn’t have a home or a car. I could see that she was troubled, her sweet mind wrestling with social issues that she has yet to grasp. Suddenly, a look of utter excitement and happiness transformed her furrowed brow. She had a solution.
From her young tool box of resources, she pulled out the only song and story she knew about building strong, firm houses in the face of trouble. “We need to make him a brick house on a rock,” she declared. The only response I could think of was to ask her where we should get the bricks from. She thought for a full minute, and then cried, “we need to go to the three little pigs house and ask for bricks!” I love her beautiful mind and heart. In these moments, we see glimpses of our future people, and receive reassurance that the foundations we fight for everyday are solid.
‘We went home that night and made black bean quinoa burgers. They had a hearty texture and we roasted fingerling potatoes to go alongside them. Throwing caution to the wind, we agreed that we should have a picnic in front of the t.v., where we watched The Three Little Pigs for the umpteenth time.