Every now and again, I think everyone should walk a few steps in my shoes and see what I see in a day.
Perhaps someone else's perspective on those very days are exactly what I need to hear just as much.
But lately, many times throughout my day, I take a step back and look at my little world in "panoramic view". And this is what I see.
I see four (or five, depending on the day) little individual humans making their way throughout their days here at daycare.
Some days are tougher than others. The days when they are tired or not feeling well or missing being at home with their parents don't usually start out all sunshine and roses.
But most days are a version of yesterday.
I sat still in the living room and just listened to the banter. The girls were immersed in their make believe world and creating yet another new storyline to their never-ending soap opera. The boys bounce in and out and through those imaginative games and become the "monster" or "dragon" or "daddy", depending on the moment. They wear a box on their head (then the girls will notice and follow suit) and each of them investigate the very same world in their own unique ways.
We walked over to the park and that same little group played different versions of the same games as they honed their climbing skills, collected rocks and other assorted "treasures" and sifted through the fresh, new sand that was added to the playground.
We came home, dumped the sand out of their shoes and clothes and washed it out from between their toes and moved ourselves back indoors.
The banter throughout the day sounded a little like this:
A moment at the breakfast table:
I can't remember how or exactly what happened but my little 2-1/2 year old by must have bumped his elbow.
Me: "What did you hurt?"
My Little Man: "My Elmo"
Moment at the lunch table:
I can't remember who was doing what to whom or what party was taking offence to it, as we sat and ate our lunch. But it was a minor little thing and I didn't want it to get blown out of proportion, so I just told (whoever seemed to be having issue with it) "Just let it go ..." Then my little 2 year old girl & I exchanged glances and I started to sing a phrase or two from the "Frozen" sound track:
♪♫ Let it go, let it go ...♪♫
and she just smiled the biggest smile (like she "got" my humor) and
her four-year-old partner in play said, "See, Colleen? I told you that you knew how to sing "Let it Go"!"
Moment after snack time:
The same little four-year-old, shouted with glee: "[Our new little one-year-old] knows how to 'high five'!"
Sure enough, I watched and there was our New Guy, "high fiving" everyone, saying "Ha fave!" and just as pleased as punch with himself.
Somehow, I have a feeling he has a whole bunch of tricks up his sleeve that he has been waiting to pull out and show us.
Sure enough, there are little blips in the day that offset the fairy tale quality of some moments.
One such moment was an argument of epic proportions between my two girls. Over "rocks".
These guys have a huge fascination with collecting little stones. My Little Guy found a little stone and my Little Man wanted it. Lucky for Little Man, he had brought two "rocks" with him at the onset of our day and I had put them up (we don't play with rocks in the house). So I retrieved his rocks for him.
This did not go over well with the girls, so I went outside the yard and came back with a pebble for each of them. End of story. Right? Wrong.
Within minutes my Little Girl was screaming like a banshee. I investigated and my Bigger Girl had three rocks in her hand and her Little Friend had none.
I just didn't have the patience to do it by the books of New Age Parenting.
I took all three rocks and tossed them out of the play area. There was extreme screaming by my Little Girl and (apparently) some extreme pouting by her Older Friend.
Soon enough, we moved out of that moment and brought out the bikes and cars and tools and within no time, everyone was playing happily once again.
I thought the "Rockgate" issue was behind us.
Then my Oldest Girl went home and as her mom was buckling her into her car seat and asked about her day, her daughter burst into tears over the story where her and her Daycare Buddy "had a big fight".
Life is tough.
You can go through the day, singing and playing and imagining all kinds of scenarios. And it can all go to pieces in a New York Minute, over the smallest of things.
Life at the playground isn't so different than Real Life, is it?