A Serious Conversation

Tonight I was busily preparing supper when Elise marched into the kitchen carrying her little chair. She plunked in down in front of the sink began the following conversation with a serious face and a serious tone:

Elise: "Mommy want to talk about something?"

Me, crouching down at her level: "I'd love to talk about something. What do you want to talk about?"

Elise: "Playing."

Me, role-playing the Psychologist: "And how do you feel about playing?"

Elise: "Better, better than Mommy cooking."

Me: "Let's go play Elise."

Now, I've put some thought into how to react to this conversation. One possible reaction is sorrow and guilt because my poor little baby is having to seek out my attention through such a serious little conversation. But I really think my gut reaction at the time is the most appropriate.

I smiled. I postponed pealing peaches in order to play trucks with Zion and Elise. I laughed with my son as he discovered how to load and dump his dump truck. I looked with pride at my daughter who is growing up so fast. And I thought to myself how grateful I am that I do not have any guilt to feel. Sure, Elise is not going to like that I have to cut short our playtime for a half an hour of dinner prep each day. But if you could look around my house right now you would see a tent in the living room where I've read dozens of books to Elise today and played hilarious games of peek-a-boo with Zion. The scads of toys on the ground are not just clutter, but evidence of hours of exploration. The unfolded laundry on our bed can attest to our trip out of the house and away from the chores to visit Daddy for lunch today. I am grateful for the creative fun, and for the common chores that compose the days that make up the life that I share with my kids. And I'm glad I have the opportunity to smile instead of regret.

Zion's quote of the day:

I was putting Zion down for a nap. He was not pleased at all to stop his play and exploration. He looked up at me with desperate eyes and ran through every sign he knows, "help, all-done, milk, eat, airplane!" Poor boy, no sign could rescue from the impending sleep =)