Why I envy my son...

I am totally envious of my son. I’ll tell you why.

In our house, we have an expression. It emerged, sort of by accident. By this, I mean that I didn’t introduce the sentiment by accident, but I didn’t quite plan on it making camp in the form that it did.

I can be tough on discipline sometimes. If I ask my kids to stop a certain behavior and they don’t listen, I’m not hugely sympathetic or soft when the undesirable consequence happens. If I ask the kids to stop playing with their cups (oh, let’s say… 10 TIMES IN A MINUTE) and then the full cup of juice goes flying across the room, I don’t hold back in letting them know how I feel about it. That said, sometimes things just happen.  Elbows can bump a cup with the best of intentions, and I don’t want my kids afraid to make an honest mistake. I want them to be comfortable being human. After all, their parents are.

So, I started saying “it happens” at those moments when unfortunate human errors occur. Cups or plates that accidentally fall. Toys that accidentally break. Accidentally making a brother/sister cry during playtime. Both of my kids got it, but my son REALLY gets it.

A few weeks ago, I went in to his room in the morning and found a huge mess. His diaper hadn’t quite contained its contents overnight and there was a pretty nasty mess on the carpet and bed. When I quickly asked the kids to back up, so I could clean up, his eyes cast downward in shame. Oh crap… no. No way. I was not letting this go. No kid should feel shame for a leaky diaper.

I took my hand and lifted his chin up, making his eyes meet mine. I smiled and told him, “It’s ok, honey. It happens”. He paused, smiled slightly and asked me (in a concerned tone), “It happens?”  “Yes, honey” I said. “It happens. And I love you. Don’t worry. It happens.”

His smile broadened into an outright grin. “It happens!” he exclaimed triumphantly. He backed up and let me clean up, no longer feeling sad.

Yes! He got it!

And here’s why I envy my son. Because he embodies the spirit of “It happens”. It’s his mojo. His way of being. His sense of self is strong, secure. He doesn’t torment himself for every mistake. He just keeps on trucking. I wish I could do that half as well as he can. He’s awesome at it.

Maybe he’ll teach me.