Soledad has told me 2 times in the past week that she could do something that I told her she could not.
As in COULDN’T DO IT.
Physically was incapable.
I told her. . . . . in so many words, ‘Nope. Your body won’t let you do that.’
And she told me, “Yes it can. Yes, it will. It can do it. It WILL do it. On this very day.”
And I said, smiling of course, thinking that I’m such a great mother, “Well maybe it sort of can. And in the future it certainly will, but today, not so much.”
To appease her, I helped her on the monkey bars. We examined her hands, and noticed a lack of calluses. I told her it would be hard to make it all the way across without the hard meat on your hands to help get a good grip. So, the first time across, I held her legs, a little, and she made it through 1/4 of the way. I was impressed.
When I turned to see what my 7 year old was doing, Soledad climbed back on the monkey bars all by herself, and when I turned back around, I noticed she was hanging four feet from the ground, swinging madly from one rung to the other, I started to run over so that I could catch her when she fell.
She yelled to me. “DON’T TOUCH ME! I CAN DO IT!”
And she did. She did it.
She never fell.
She just swung that little body of hers, shifting her hips from side to side, grabbing each rung with her momentum.
Grinning from ear to ear, she swung her last leg onto the ladder, climbed down and looked up at me.
Not a word came from her lips.
She just tilted her head and waited.
“Wow. Soli, you did it! Wow!!! That was amazing! I’m so proud of you. I didn’t know you were so strong. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Well you should have, because I told you.”
OK, well noted.
She also told us (it wasn’t just my fault this time) that she could sing Karaoke at the City’s 50th Birthday Celebration.
She said, “Yes, I can.”
We said, “No, you can’t”
She said, “YES I CAN.”
We said, “You’re five. You can’t read.”
She said, “Yes, I can. I do it everyday.”
We said, “But not that well. Not big words. Not like this.”
She cried.
We walked away.
She cried.
We told her next year.
And then my husband remembered they probably won’t have ANOTHER 50th birthday celebration next year. Darn it.
So we turned around, signed her up, and waited for the red faces to ensue. For the lack of reading skills to hold her back. For her to get embarrassed, nervous and give up.
We should have known better.
She read that teleprompter thing like nobody’s business.
She sang her little heart out in her cute little softball pants.
When will I learn to just let my children fly?
And to stop worrying?
They are going to be okay.
They are going to be better than okay.
They are going to be amazing.
– – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – –
When it comes to being organized, sometimes I think, I can’t do it.
It’s too hard.
It won’t stay that way.
What’s the use?
Good thing I don’t have my mom standing over my shoulder telling me I’ll never be able to tackle such a feat.
No.
My mom is supportive.
My mom is a real gem.
She says things like “You can do it! Get up and do it again. This time don’t give up! Wait for your second wind!!!!”
She’s told me those things over and over again in the past 36 years.
I’m gonna tell my kids that.
I’m gonna tell me that.
I can be organized!
Starting with my Study.
And that durn Bookshelf.
And my kids homework supplies.
Clear the book shelf!
Take away all unnecessary books. Throw away junk!
Throw all the superfluous mess onto your desk so that you won’t be able to do anything but clean up!
Buy plastic black bins with clear drawers because you like clear things and it will help you be more organized!
Remove old box that has been sitting in the corner for 4 years and put that junk AWAY!
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| I’m not exaggerating when I say that box has been sitting there in that very spot for 3 years and 9 months. Nothing in it that’s important. Cable wires. Crap. Extension cords. Nobody wants to figure out what to do with it. |
YOU CAN DO IT!
Organize your life!
You just did it.
Job well done:)
