The catalyst for change was holding my small girl's hand, walking home from school. Among the noise and the haste, it occurred to me how tiny, warm, soft, and smooth it was. I rubbed it gently as we walked, and explored it's contours, and the feel of her tiny bones.
It's hard to say what happened next - either she felt my love and felt secure enough not to play up, or I remembered how much I loved her, and became more patient. Or maybe both.
Either way, the afternoon was a harmonious one. We still have tantrums, defiance, tears, mess and noise.
Hand holding moments aren't always possible, but a smile, or appreciating the comedy of a vexed small voice trying to sound intimidating is normally there for the taking. I'll focus on many small pleasures - the big pleasures - ambitions fulfilled by proxy - are likely to be an anticlimax anyway.
Posted on 2013-07-01 13:15:38