Life is good. It always is. No matter what’s happening, I have two amazing kids that make it good.
We’re going through some medical stuff with Mattix, but this is not new. We do this occasionally. And while it’s not always instinctive to look at the positive — as the mom to this amazing kid who is the one going through it — it’s one of those situations where it could truly be so, so much worse.
So much worse.
In fact, it could be so much worse that it’s mind boggling.
I focus on that, absorb the kids’ positive energy and keep at the very front of my mind the fact that I am the adult and his mom and so the way in which I present and filter the situation is everything.
One person who has lightened up this and a stressful work situation is Molley. She’s always been verbal beyond her years, but she’s never made me laugh the way she has lately. I have to share a few highlights with you because, honestly, they’re too good not to share.
She’s so matter of fact these days. Everything she says is done in such a way that it’s obvious that, duh, this is the how it is. This is very different for us. For years, she chose her words very carefully and everything she said was well thought-out and purposeful. Now, she speaks the thoughts that pop into her mind without filtering them or considering them. I’m loving it so much.
I think it’s opposite of what normally happens with kids. One-, two- and three-years olds are impulsive, but not Molley. She’s always been very careful and purposeful. I think she’s finally in a place where she’s confident with the fact that she’s an integral part of this family. She knows her role and is flourishing in it. And that’s given her the confidence to no longer filter her thoughts and actions, but to just let them flow.
Last week, Mattix told Tiffani that he and Molley were going to get married. When Tiffani told him that they can’t do that, Molley looked at Tiff like she was a complete and total idiot.
“Why not?!” she asked, positively dumbfounded. “We are perfect for each other.”
Another day, she asked me whether we could possibly live somewhere “really cool one day.” When I told her I thought we did that and I don’t want to move again, she said, “No. I mean, like Disneyland. Or Peter Parker Pizza. Or Chunky Cheese. One of those places. Those are cool places.”
First of all, I’m willing to live in Disneyland, but let’s get real about the pizza joints. And second, I die over Chunky Cheese and Peter Parker Pizza.
On Sunday night, while I was telling the kids about the schedule for the week, she asked, “So is anything exciting going to happen this week? It doesn’t sound exciting.” I asked what she meant by exciting. “Like, are Tiffani and Nick going to come over?” she responded. “Or maybe could I spend the night at Grandma’s house? That would be more exciting. What you just said is not exciting.”
Ed started reading a “real” book to the kids recently – a chapter book. When he’s in town, he reads a few chapters each night. For four- and five- years olds, the kids are really into it. Shortly after Ed began reading it, they told Grandma about it. Moll explained how there are no pictures because this is a “chapter book” and that they use their imaginations to create the images.
I told them to fill Grammy in on what’s happened so far in Stuart Little. At that point, they were only a few chapters in. “Well, the cat ate the mouse. The mouse was in his tummy. But then he threw the mouse up. So it’s okay,” Moll said.
“Um, I don’t think that’s what happened at all,” I said.
“No!” Matty chimed in. “He didn’t eat the mouse.”
“Yeah he did,” Moll responded, clearly annoyed by our stupidity.
“No, honey, he didn’t,” I said.
“Yes he did. I obviously know what happened in this story and none of you do. You should listen when Daddy reads.”
So, there’s that.
Tonight, the kids helped decorate their tree – we have a larger “pretty” tree and the family tree. By 9:00 pm, Molley was exhausted. She asked to go to bed. I tucked her in and she fell asleep immediately, but around 1:30 am, I heard her crying. I went in, scooped her up and asked her what was wrong.
When she was able to stop sobbing long enough to talk, she stuttered through her sniffles, “I-I-I just wanted to k-k-keep decorating.”
Don’t we all?
I absolutely love this picture of Molley. Mattix took it on my iPhone. If only he hadn’t cut her feet off, it would be perfect. It captures her so well. Because we were already on the medical campus for Mattix, I scheduled her 4-year-old physical that was three months overdue.
When Matty took this pic, she’d just had a vaccine she wasn’t expecting. (I didn’t tell her about it in advance, so it caught her off guard. But she did hear the doctor and I discussing the next three that she needs that she’ll be heading back for – one per week until she’s done. That should be fun now that she knows they’re coming.)
She wasn’t happy, but she climbed up on a concrete pilar and insisted on having her picture taken. She’s so confident and comfortable with herself. This is what I wanted to badly for her since she first stormed off to her room, slammed her door and announced that she didn’t like me – at 15 months old.
I wanted for her to have this natural and genuine confidence – so that she can live a life that allows her to feel secure and assured. So she can look to herself for reinforcement and not to outside sources. So she doesn’t feel the need to control every tiny factor in her world so that she can feel in control of her life.
Somehow, by 4 years old, she has grasped that. It’s not been the shortest or easiest road, but never would I have expected to be at this so quickly.
And right now, while we’re navigating a few things with Mattix’s health, this new part of Molley is such a welcome breath of fresh air. I look forward to hearing what she has to say every single day. And trust me, it hasn’t always been that way!