The Little Things

For anyone who is a parent, or at least the good parents, they know that there is an assumed bit of pride and pleasure in raising another being.  Whether you're reading your child their favorite story for literally the twentieth time, catching their staticky body at the foot of a slide or coloring the seventh picture of the week to throw proudly on your encumbered fridge, there are sure to be many feel good moments and recognizable accomplishments to take pleasure in. 

If you're like me, however, the pleasures and joys of parenthood can be diminished or taken for granted by a full-time job and an unforgiving class load.  For some unfortunate reason, parenting loses part of its luster when you’re busy trying to pay the bills and obtain an education; all the while you try not to screw up the little guy or girl in your life that is always looking up to you.  If you're lucky, the worst scar they'll come out of toddlerhood with is having said the word 'shit' for an entire day at preschool. 

Last week, after logging eight hours in at the office and attending a three class, I was ready to get home and pass out on the couch watching reruns of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.  Children, however, should never be exposed to the colorful, yet abusive, characters that make up the cast of such a show, and as always, there were errands to run. 

With the little guy packed into the back of the car, and our to-do list straddling my back like a drug-riddled monkey, we set off to pick-up dry cleaning and snag an easy dinner.  I was drained from head to toe.  The last thing I wanted to do was rope around my two-year old.  Children, unlike their parents, are rarely tired, or exhausted and as if they are constantly laughing in the face of thermodynamics, they are in a state of perpetual motion. 

Our first stop was the dry cleaners, to which we were greeted warmly by the owner.  Even the always smiling owner seemed like her day and week had pulled her across the coals.  Cal, per his usual rounds, blasted to the mirrors where the measuring is done, left them finger stained, and then, like lighting, he leapt to the foot of the owner.  Smiling precariously, the owner said something, a nugget in my otherwise dim day.  "Thank you for your smile.” 

While the rest of our trip was ordinary, her words rang deep, reminding me of the pleasures of parenthood that I far too often take for granted.  The kid might be running around like a cheetah with a Redbull PICC line and Rockstar beer cap, but he frequently shares a smile and he’s almost always happy.  Even though the lady running the dry cleaners seemed liked her week was overwhelming, she was still able to take notice of a smile of all things—perhaps what her week had been absent of after seeing far too many 9:00-5:00 clients drop off and pick up their clothes. 

Juggling parenthood, school and work may not be easy, but thankfully each day has its little nuggets that keep me going.