Three Life Lessons from my Children

My children have taught me more about life than I could ever teach them

Lesson number one: Self Love

It was a cold morning during a hard lockdown as a result of the coronavirus and I hobbled down the stairs in my ‘lucky’ pajama pants. They’re lucky because I have had them for 12 years and, believe me when I tell you, they are the most comfortable pajamas in the world. The one side is shorter than the other because I had to cut a piece off the bottom when it tore about five years ago. They are also about two sizes too big. My nails were cracked and my skin was pasty and grey from a sleepless night of studying. As my daughter saw me, she ran to me and kissed me on the cheek, and told me that I am beautiful.

And that is motherhood for you. Constant lessons of self-love from the soul you grew from within your womb. To my children, I will always be beautiful.

Lesson Number Two: Design your own footprint

I love watching my daughter and son walk in my shoes. They fumble and fall and laugh and the look of pure joy on their faces makes my disheveled cupboard and popsicle-stained shoes worth it. They also mimic my every move in the kitchen and jump into the shower when I shower. I guess that makes me the master puppeteer and, I can pull the strings and, mould these little minds as I wish.

I don’t like the idea of that.

I want my children to correct my mistakes and, watch me fail. I want them to note all of the things that I do wrong and laugh at me when I say something stupid. I want them to criticise my dress sense and question my choices. I want them to, time and time and time again note my wrongs and feel my imperfections.

Imperfections that make me human and whole. Imperfections that shape me into who I am as a mother and a wife. Imperfections that make it okay for them to fumble and fall. Because I do not wish for them to walk in my shoes. I want them to, in fact, I need them to, find their own shoes. Shoes that will carry them further than I could ever go. Shoes that will help them run faster and walk further.

Because, when my children run ahead of me, I want them to leave behind their footprints. Not mine.

Lesson number three: Food is just food

According to eatingrecoverycenter.com, the latest statistics indicate that more than 30 million people in the U.S. suffer from an eating disorder. Furthermore, anorexia is the third most common chronic illness among adolescents, after asthma and obesity.

Now let’s think about that for a moment. A significant amount of adults and adolescents are either eating too much or too little. How does a toddler laughing at the joy of a pile of raisins and some leftover pasta turn into a calorie-counting-obsessively-weighing teen? Conversely, how does a running, jumping, laughing toddler evolve into an inactive and, obese teenager?

To my mind, the problem is that we are observing adults where we should be looking at children. My toddlers will eat when they are hungry and spend a healthy amount of time running around outside while soaking up some natural vitamin D. Toddlers teach us moderation and sensibility, while, adults teach us to sit indoors and work excessively while consuming copious amounts of caffeine and, as little, and in some cases as many, calories as possible.

On my son’s second birthday, I had to beg, bribe, and plead with my children to come and blow out the candles for a family photo. I spent about a month prior to the party obsessing over the color scheme, design, and, flavours of the cake. After a half-hearted blow and a semi-decent photograph, my kids ran off to play with their friends. I called for them to taste the cake and my daughter obediently grabbed a piece of icing, gobbled it down, and ran off telling me that she would have more later.

And that’s just it. It’s just a cake. My daughter taught me about priorities and moderation just by running off to play with her friends.

And as for my son, he took the plate and fed his piece of cake to our dogs.

It’s just cake.

The Moral of the Story

The age-old debate on whether the chicken came before the egg or vice versa, can be easily answered by anyone who has children in their life.

The chicken came first. It never learned about the smell of innocence or the beautiful, submissive naivety of childhood. It did not listen to its primal instincts and found it hard to manage how much or how little to eat. It fumbled and cried and fell. And, when God blessed her with a chick, she became obsessed with making her safe and warm. She taught her how to survive, how to find food, and how to live. There was no time for the mother chicken to learn.

Had the egg come first, life would be so different.