She made her way in, sleepy-eyed and groggy. “Mama, I accidentally had a accident in my bed.” Annoyed, and tired, I huffed out of bed in search of clean Pj’s.
Peeling the wet ones off, I asked, with a tone not so kind, “Did you not go potty before bed?” She whispered, slowly, “I think, I accidentally, free-got.” I sighed, a big sigh.
Not much time passed, I lay awake, one part of the now Quinn sandwich that has become our bed, and my stomach turned.
How unfair of me. How silly and childish of me. I turned and quietly spoke toward her, but to no one in particular: “I accidentally free-got to let you be little. Mama’s sorry.” It’s so easy to get caught up in being a grown-up. A grumpy, sleep-deprived, adult with a bad attitude.
But it’s also easy to apologize. To let our kids know we are human, and we love them regardless of our sometimes less-than-stellar choices. It’s not the first time I’ve had to apologize to her, and it won’t be the last. Just another piece of mothering.
Let’s decide not to “accidentally free-get” our children are children, for only so long. They deserve the occasional mistake or two.
Let’s gift them with the ability to make them — to have accidents and spill their juice and drag dirt onto our clean floors.
Let’s gift them with better attitudes when they’re simply being little, but then humbling ourselves when we don’t.
Let’s gift them with childhood. Shall we?