This morning as I was getting ready for Mass, I heard Mike come back inside from taking out the trash, whispering to the three bigger kids, "Kids, come here, quick! You have to see something!" I could read the enthusiasm in his voice and understood that he was trying not to wake the baby at the same time. I came running, eye pencil in hand, eager to see the deer or the caterpillar or whatever it was that was clearly going to delight a trio of young 'uns. We made it to the driveway, sock-footed and gazed up at a low-flying, very colorful hot air balloon! The kids waved and hollered, "Hello up there!" And to our delight, they waved and yelled back, "Hello!" They could see us enjoying them, and it was clear they were pleased to see the children so tickled by their flight. And we savored the moment. Mike and I smiled at each other and smiled at the kids, and no one rushed them back inside to hurry and get dressed or get somewhere. We breathed it into our lungs and lived it, and I'm quite certain we just made memories for a two year old, a five year old, and a six (and three-quarters) year old.
And that's when I realized that that is all that I'm supposed to be doing. I think as moms, we constantly second guess if we are offering our kids enough opportunities. All of my friends' daughters are taking music lessons and are in girl scouts and are doing cool, fabulous things with their daughters' hair and are teaching them to balance their own budget by organizing chore charts and teaching them the envelope system and certainly she should be fluent in Spanish by now and probably know where all of the countries in Europe are on a map...and...and... And I have to say, I blame Facebook.
I'm only sort of kidding. Here's the deal. Not one of my friends is doing all of those things. No, but 267 of them are doing one of those activities. I can't compete with 267 moms. And I don't want to. I want to offer my children a rich childhood full of playful, loving memories. I want to start Hot Air Balloon Parenting.
My new litmus test for whether or not to spend my time on something will be to ask the question: Does this pass the hot air balloon test? That is, does this experience create memories for my child that are meaningful and create connections with other human beings or with their creator? When it comes down to it, whether they can speak multiple languages, list the capitals of all of the states, perform in front of a crowd, or list a resume full of activities they spent doing...it all just doesn't amount to a hill of beans when they are adults. What amounts to a mountain range though is whether they felt love and learned to show love to others. Did they feel that their parents took the time to listen to them when they wanted to talk? Did they feel that they got to PLAY every day or did they just feel that they were rushed from one thing to the next? Do they remember sitting down and just cuddling? Will they nourish their own children with loving relationships because they had it so well modeled for them? These are the questions that matter! It's childhood after all. I'm responsible for training kind human beings, not adults who rush from one thing to the next, only pausing to shoot a photo to post on Facebook to validate all of the rushing.
And so I'm committing to less comparison parenting and more openness to those hot air balloon moments. That's not to say that there won't be days when we do have to rush somewhere. Parents do have to teach responsibility and all that life will require of them. But that part of parenting comes more naturally to me. For now, what I feel called to focus on working on is these sweet moments. They are fleeting. If I'm always looking down at my phone, I'll miss what magical moments are floating overhead. So, that's my challenge to myself: openness and awareness of those magical moments before they float right by.
