Sometimes, It’s All Good

I don’t often blog about my adventures in motherhood (so many others do it so well, and frankly, I worry I’d write about something horrible or embarrassing that would come back to haunt The Girl. But, I have to relate some recent happenings, which I can’t help but think are related to each other.

Two nights ago, I decided that I needed to help The Girl get control of the mess in her room. A while back, I’d implemented a checklist of tasks to do each night (and later added a morning checklist as well) to make sure her room and bathroom were neat and tidy (so she wouldn’t have to spend hours each weekend on room cleaning). It had been going really well, and then I backed off on my supervisory duties and it all slowly unraveled. A couple of nights ago, she literally cried through the whole thing because didn’t want to have to do it. She kept trying to convince me it was all an “organized mess.” Nice try, but I wasn’t buying it. The following night, she did it on her own, before bedtime, without being asked, and did everything she was supposed to. I was really proud of her.

Well, being in a good mood the following day over that little parenting triumph (and the fact that she was back to school after being home two days with the plague we’d both contracted), I’d gone to Kohl’s to pick up an online order of stuff for Hub’s birthday, and decided to look around a bit. I knew she needed some more long sleeve shirts (damn kid keeps growing!), so I headed over to her section. And on the way, I saw something in the boys department. Something she’d been asking me to get for about two years, but I hadn’t seen one in stores. She’d been dying for one of those hoodie sweatshirts with a skeleton print that zips up over the whole head with a breathable, part mesh and therefore somewhat-see-thru skull on the face, and there it was! I knew I had to grab it, because who knew when I’d find one again. Besides, it was 50% off and I had a 30% off coupon, so I was giddy with the illusion of savings that Kohl’s has mastered for drawing us into its web of spending.

She was in a good mood after school (it was Friday, after all), so I decided to give it to her then and there (had she been snotty at me, it probably would have been hidden until Christmas). She was so excited, and gave me a yuuuuge hug. A tremendous hug. It was so great.

Last night, just before we went up to tuck her in, she told me not to look in any of the drawers or cabinets in the kitchen, because she had a surprise for me for morning. Since she’d asked me (through the bathroom door, like one does) what my favorite tea is for morning, I had a idea of what was going on, so I just said, “Ok.” Of course, before I went to bed, I had to have a look around. I found this in one of the drawers:

I thought that was just so darn sweet, and I closed the drawer with a smile, hoping she’d at least wait until I woke up to prepare my specal breakfast.

This morning, I felt something tickle my face. I swiped at it, and I was totally grossed out thinking it was a spider. Then I saw a blur and heard a clamoring of size 1.5 feet, and realized it was her. I asked her to come back, but she didn’t – not right away. Soon, she stealthily returned and placed this on my table lamp:

As quickly as she appeared, she was gone, leaving my room service breakfast in her wake. Seriously, I felt like I was in a hotel, but I didn’t have to spend $40 on breakfast. And how cute is it that she brought my iPad and keyboard with breakfast, so I could read the morning Trib and join the Facebook fray?

Well, at that point, somehow, I didn’t mind that she woke me. I got up to inspect my goodies, but then went back to bed and cried a bit at how sweet and thoughtful my kid can be (ugh, waterworks back on as I type this – I swear, “change of life” hormones are sometimes as bad as post-partum). I happen to think my kid is the best kid in the world (doesn’t every parent?). Ask anyone who knows me. However, it’s not often that she’s this brand of wonderful; so, when she does something this kind, it makes my heart grow two sizes. Parenting is so hard, but there’s no greater reward than when you get it right.

Let’s go Cubbies! Let’s go!