"And the wise man sayeth: It came without packages and ribbons and bows.
Wise man never had children."
Sometimes the Universe works in such a way as it catches you off guard, or at least nudges you in a moment when you weren't expecting it, reminding you of what's Good in your life, such as tonight when I was in the middle of frying up some bacon for the morning meal, and as I stood over the cast iron, fighting back the tears that wanted to spill because I faced another disappointment in my journey to get myself, my work and my personal story SEEN by someone who is local, has "been there" and is now a very successful business woman, known throughout the entire country for her creations, tell me in a nutshell "thank you, God bless you". This response, after I put my heart out there, asking for specific help was just too much. After a day of unwanted happenings, feeling blocked lately at pushing through worldly resistance, this response was simply one that did not touch my heart in the way I wanted: I. felt. crushed. I'm not that young. How will I make my way? Why can't I get more people to read my writings much less pay me for them? I'm talented. I know it. Even though people tell me the same, I don't need them to for I know one thing about myself: Writing is not only my passion, it is my gift.
And as I stood over that hot pan, thinking about how hard I am working not only for myself but for my daughter, who comes in the room? My daughter, touching my shoulder as she walked by, pulling up a chair, sitting down, and pulling out a piece of paper begins to read out loud:
"I have had the thought, here and there, now and then, to write a book. A very simple book. The title? "The Only Parental Advice Book You Will Ever Need." Inside? Nothing but blank pages all with the exception of one which would oh so appropriately say "SOMETIMES NOTHING WORKS."'
I pause, look over at her. She looks up, smiles.
"Hey, I wrote that when you were little. Where did you find it?" She simply smiles and continues to read. Next thing I know I am taken back to that night that inspired me to write the piece. It was Christmas time. Mariah Carey had already announced "It's TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME" on the radio and I was in full on preparation mode. I also had a little Christmas Elf with me that night: my daughter, who was no more than 4.
Continuing on:
"No more is that evident than when you attempt to wrap presents with your young child. In fact, I think I can comfortably advise adults with young children to Never. Wrap. Presents. With. Your. Young. Child.
Ever.
That is not unless you plan on going to bed that same night AND wish to see your bare floors ever again AND have the desire to reorganize your wrapping supplies AND pull up tape from, well, everywhere.
You know what's coming, right? Of course you do. A story! About my girl. And about my experience wrapping Christmas gifts with her.
It began simple enough.
"Want to wrap Christmas presents with mommy?" I asked.
"Yippie! YES YES YES!" came the squeals of my girl.
So, with her dancing by my side, I locate the wrapping paper, tucked nicely and neatly away in a corner in the closet. That fooled me as I assumed I would find the rest of my holiday wrapping essentials tucked away just as nicely and neatly. Not so. Unrolled, twisted ribbon, flattened bows and empty tape dispensers and for reasons unknown to me ripped up little pieces of cardboard greeted me. Name tags, once organized, were tossed in the giant plastic bag haphazardly. For a brief moment I had the longing to be single with a house full of organized, well, EVERYTHING. My daughter of course interrupted my fantasy....
"Let me help mama," she said, grabbing the plastic bag out of my hands, dumping the contents on the floor. "Oooooh mama you have some REALLY cool stuff here!"
I hold on to ANYTHING she says about me being cool for I know those days are short lived. So I smile at her enthusiastic desire to go through my pile of everything.
As I sit down on the floor and organize the gifts we are to wrap, I realize some would look good in a gift bag.
Gift bags. Hmmm. I know I have those.
Somewhere.
At last I locate them - in with some old sheets. Don't ask. I have no memory of putting them there. Heck, I didn't even know I still had these sheets. So, I bring out the box of gift bags. And I swear, no sooner had I reached for the first gift, my daughter had proceeded to dump out the entire box. We're talking nanoseconds. The child is that quick. And that easily distracted.
Again, I simply smile at her enthusiasm and asked her to pick out the gift bag, which she did. But then moments later changed her mind. You see, she suddenly got another burst of creativity and decided the gift bag I was using was one she HAD to use to put a present she had made for me. That she HAD to give me. Right THEN.
So I handed her the bag. I was given a pretty gift bag stuffed full of some name tags and two smashed bows.
"For you mama," she said, smiling impishly.
(Pause for a collective "aaawwww").
Thanking her, I went back to wrapping and asked her if she would like to help me with the tape.
WRONG CHOICE!! I would now tell myself if I could alter time. But I can't, which is good for you because that means you get to have a laugh at my expense.
Like the locating of the wrapping paper, it began simple enough. Me cutting out the paper, lining up the gift, tearing off a piece of tape and asking her to hold it while I make sure the paper is 'just so'.
"Woops, sorry mama," I hear her say as I glance her way and notice the tape stuck together.
"That's ok," I said, showing her how to hold it next time
Attempt #2: Same thing. I tear off another piece, hand it to her, line up the gift and say, "Ok honey mama's ready for the tape," holding out my hand.
Nothing.
So I look her way. I see no tape.
"Sweetie, where's the tape?" I ask.
"I put it on the pillow," she said, pointing to the cough pillow.
How on earth did she manage to do that so fast without me noticing? I swear children have the ability to manipulate the laws of physics, if not the space-time continuum.
I have learned sometimes it's best not to ask a why they do a particular behavior, so I tell her we don't put tape on the pillow, to which she then goes over to it to rip it off but instead I say, this time impatience beginning to show, "It's ok, just leave it" and make another attempt to complete the very simple task of asking my child to hand me a piece of tape.
Here's how it went:
The next piece was placed on her cheek so she could "see what it feels like". The next piece was thrown up in the air so she could see how tape fell. The next piece was put on her boo boo as a band-aid and the next (and final) piece was grabbed too angrily by yours truly and in that moment, got it stuck in my hair.
It was at that moment that I saw Christmas Red. I had to leave the room. A "mama time-out" as we call them. And a good thing I did that because if not, some of you would have received an unwrapped gift in a gift bag that likely said, "happy birthday" or "congratulations on your new job". Complete with a squashed bow shoved inside.
And balled up scotch tape."
By the time she got through reading this out loud, she and I were both laughing, remembering that night. And me a sense of renewal begin to fill me. Watching her read this, I was reminded not only how much I love and adore this being, who I am often humbled by how blessed I know I am to have her as my daughter; how much I fight each day to rebuild myself and my life, for her and I both, but how much this beautiful Soul, now almost a young woman herself, has my back. And my heart. Oh, how quickly that time flew. Taking me back to those early days when life felt so much simpler. When inspiration was easy to come by. When a handmade, simple gift presented to me from her was enough to soothe my weary Soul.
Just as she did again tonight.
๐
Victoria
"๐ก๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฝ๐ช๐ต๐ฒ๐๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ ๐ต๐ธ๐ผ๐ฝ ๐ช๐ป๐ฝ ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐ผ๐ฝ๐ธ๐ป๐๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ต๐ต๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ, ๐ธ๐ท๐ฎ ๐ผ๐ฝ๐ธ๐ป๐ ๐ช๐ท๐ญ ๐ธ๐ท๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ธ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ฎ๐ฎ ๐ช๐ฝ ๐ช ๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฎ."
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