Lesson from a yellow slip and slide
January 23, 2012 | Family: Nurturing Family
She was buck naked. She had drank enough water from the plastic kiddie pool that her little belly looked like a watermelon.
Her twin brother had on a diaper. It weighed as much as he did, swaying with a gallon of water.
The oldest had on her bikini, a tight bow wrapped at the nape of her neck. While her younger brother and sister ran at the yellow slip and slide with abandon, throwing themself with arms out like super man, she timidly ran at it and slid on her bottom, a look of sheer delight on her face.
I was wearing a swimsuit. My hair was wet, sort of. The kind of wet that comes from a flailing water hose. It was mashed with Dawn Liquid dish soap where I had accidently got the soap in my hair.
We were laughing. A lot. The Dawn Liquid made the yellow slip and slide a rocket, their little bodies flying as they squealed in delight.
And then the car drove up.
Three church ladies stepped out. They were wearing dresses. Their hair was fixed.
I looked at my self, my body bearing the marks of three babies born in 19 months. What would they think of my naked child with the watermelon belly. My son with the 10 lb. diaper. My daughter who had somehow managed to take her top off in spite of my well-tied bow at the nape of her neck.
“Can we come in?” one asked.
That’s when panic set in.
The day was perfect. My home was not. Laundry piled in a chair. My little shotgun house cluttered with toys. Closet space was at a minimum. My washer and dryer were in my kitchen. We had only two closets in the whole house, so even when I worked hard to keep the house clean, it was like mowing the grass and coming out five minutes later to find it had grown 5 inches.
Impossible.
When the woman stepped in the house, I suddenly saw it through their eyes. What a mess! Clean underneath . . . okay, except for that spill I was going to get to. . .
I started heaping shame on my young mom self in abundance. Surely other moms had it together.
Surely other moms had three children under the age of three and were able to keep a spotless home, stock a refrigerator with adult-friendly snacks (other than Nilla Wafers and breast milk), put up their laundry as it came out of the dryer, and organize toys so that you didn’t step on them.
Surely there were other moms who had a roast. . . no, strike that — no red meat. . . a chicken broasting for dinner.
Surely there were other moms whose stretch marks had diminished, and if they didn’t, wasn’t wearing a swimsuit in the backyard where God and everybody could see her.
I wish I could go back. I’d wrap my arms around that young mom.
The church ladies were nice. They didn’t heap shame on me. I did. They were just trying to make a young mom feel welcome to their church, even though one said after I apologized for the tenth time, “Honey, if you can stand it, we can.” Her comment was gentle, meant to make me feel better. It didn’t.
Because my shame was not allowing me to see the beauty of what was all around me.
Those squeals. Delight. Fun. Joy. Memories in the making.
A young mom who didn’t necessarily know how to do it all, but who was trying her best. A mom who knew that laundry might wait for an hour or two while we captured the noon sunshine. Who worked endlessly to feed, bathe, love her babies.
My children are grown now. I’m a Gramma to three beautiful grandbabies under the age of 2.
And the one lesson that would share with my children? It’s the lesson I’ve taken from that yellow slip and slide moment: Making memories and laughter is priority, too. In fact, it’s of great value.
You see, when my children flock into our house with pack and plays, car seats, diapers, and more, as we sit around the table, their conversations aren’t wrapped around a spotless kitchen or the sweet, sweet smell of Pine Sol. Instead, they remember those times that seemed insignificant. When we played. When we laughed. Silly moments that became precious markers of childhood.
Maybe today is a good day to laugh with your child. Put down the to-do’s. Stop comparing yourself to others. Enjoy the moment.
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EVEN as a MiMi I need this reminder once in a while!
January 23rd, 2012 at 1:53 pmHave a great Monday!!
I was encouraged to view my piles of unfolded (or even unwashed) laundry as monuments marking the time I’d spent *with* my kids. Thank you for this beautiful reminder to be in the moment with people, not in pursuit of perfection.
January 23rd, 2012 at 2:16 pmThank you Suzie for this reminder! We are enjoying our two beautiful children! Kris and I actually laughed about the tornado that hit the inside of our home. We finally realized playing with our kiddos is priority and we’re enjoying every minute!
January 23rd, 2012 at 2:47 pmGood word. As one in the thick of it, I say thank you!
January 23rd, 2012 at 11:58 pmTHANK YOU!! I’ve been learning this lesson lately and needed this reminder!!
January 24th, 2012 at 9:21 amBeautiful post!
January 24th, 2012 at 11:11 amGreat story! Wish I would have done more of that when my boys were small! The laundry will always be there!
January 24th, 2012 at 6:54 pm::tears::
This post is my reality. Thank you for this encouragement.
Beautiful.
January 25th, 2012 at 11:44 amI had four children in fours. Our house was never a showplace…far far from it. It was pretty much always messy and definitely always loud. And most of the time I always had “extras” because it was the place their friends hung out as well. At the time I would cringe when “the church ladies” would pop in…I always felt a little ashamed that my home never looked like house beautiful.
February 7th, 2012 at 11:25 amMy children are grown now. My oldest daughter just married and moved 5 hours away. On her way out of town she left a letter not to be opened until she was on the road. In the letter she stated how grateful she was the way she grew up.
It is so hard to let them go but I am so grateful that we “played” and laughed while they were growing up. My house is quite and clean now…until one day when I am blessed with grandchildren:)