A Tiny Glimpse

Parenthood is grueling. You struggle, you pray, you swear, you hope...and then you have to wait eighteen years to see if any of your hard work paid off. There is no instant gratification in parenthood. You have an image in your mind of the person you are raising your child to be. The morals you are trying to instill. The values that are important to you. Most days it seems as though all of your hard work is for naught. However, you trudge along, ever hopeful that your direction....your hard-earned wisdom and loving guidance....will find a fertile ground to root and grow. If you are lucky, at some point in his or her childhood, you may be allowed a tiny glimpse into your child's soul. Amidst the bickering and yelling...between the begging and I-Hate-You's and sarcastic snapping, a brief moment will occur that makes you think, "Ok...I am doing alright." I had just such a moment last night. At the dinner table, the kids and I were discussing our day...our favorite parts and least favorite parts. When it was my turn, my responses came easily. My favorite part of the day was playing Mario Kart with Lucas and Nicholas after work. My least favorite part was having a six-inch long needle full of cortisone thrust into my two-inch thick foot. At that point, Lucas asked me if it hurt. When I said yes, it hurt like crazy, Lucas looked at me with the sweetest look on his face. He said, "Momma, after dinner do you want me to get you a pillow to prop your foot up on?" Huh? Where did that come from? My typically self-absorbed seven-year-old son was offering to comfort another person? At that moment, I was overcome with an unusual feeling. I think it was confidence. I believe it was self-assuredness. In that moment, I caught a glimpse of the caring man I was raising. It only lasted a moment before the bickering began again. However, in that moment, I actually felt that perhaps...just maybe...Ruanita and I are doing something right in this brutal job called parenthood.