No one told me that my child would be a little, lively, walking mirror where upon I gaze and behold my angst in all its glory. Yes, folks, its that time when I actually have to start watching what I say and what I do, watch how I behave and how I treat people, watch what gets me angry and what I do with that anger. I have this little sponge attached to my hip that soaks in every last bit of all that is me. He processes and produces. And let me tell you, I have not been reminded of this in moments of good, selfless, loving kindness. It is funny to me that I am entrusted to teach this little guy how to interpret the world when I can barely do so myself. I never expected that I would welcome the refinement that comes into my life as I fix my eyes upon the mirror that my child delicately holds reflecting me. Isn't it ironic that enumerable times, he is the one teaching me?
No comments:
Post a Comment