It’s funny what some people consider “sacred.”
For a blogger like myself who tends to be an over-sharer by nature, the only thing I pretty much don’t blog about (besides my actual weight or money) is my marriage–mostly because, well, this is my blog and my marriage isn’t up for discussion the way, say, my disordered eating past (or pregnant present self) is.
Not because I don’t love and adore my husband (or because he sometimes annoys the crap out of me — he sure does!) but because our marriage — with its ups and downs — is ours to cherish. It is sacred and belongs to us; the two of us and no one else … whereas my blog belongs to me and me alone.
But although she has no say in my blog’s content [yet], I realized I do write a lot about Maya and motherhood … and lately I’ve been thinking about the notion of “sacredness” with respect to her.
I mean, I write about everything: her growth and development, new stages of life, funny things she says. I share pics and vids … It’s all par for the course having a child in 2013 and who knows … she could hate me in 10 years for telling the blogosphere that she had her first airplane bathroom experience on this trip … but it’s our here and now and I am proud of the little girl she is becoming and as any mother would do — Jewish or otherwise — I kvell over her accomplishments. This is my forum and my digital scrapbook, if you will.
I have often thought of our nightly rituals as just that: rituals. Bath, potty, jammies, song and/or book … then hugs, kisses and lights out. Babies and toddlers thrive on consistency and, as a creature of habit myself, I’ve been more than happy to provide her with that since her earliest days with us.
Which is why I was so surprised when, while visiting my parents, I discovered how sacred one of my special songs was to her. She was singing a bunch of songs for them at the kitchen table (read as: showing off): Itsy Bitsy Spider, Ba Ba Black Sheep, ABCs, Humpty Dumpty, Twinkle Twinkle, Chilly Willy … and I started singing “our song,” expecting her to chime in.
Instead, she cut me off, with her face stone-cold serious. “No, Mommy. We only sing that AT HOME,” shooting me a look as only a sassy 2 1/2 year old can.
My mom and I exchanged a glance and tears started welling in my eyes. Though the song was something I was sharing because I knew she liked it and assumed she’d sing along … she associated that with home and a song we sing just us two. In private.
Though she doesn’t know the word yet, to her, that song is sacred.
“Oh, OK, I see …,” I said. “We can sing it when we get home, OK?” I assured her.
“OK, Mommy.” And then it was back to Ba Ba Black Sheep, as though nothing had happened.
But I was changed. That brief interlude with her at my parents’ house made me realize just how special certain things might be to her … and those special things need not be blogged about or put on display for anyone else to see (aside from sharing this post, of course)!
In a nanosecond, she gave me perspective. For that, I am eternally grateful.
How about you? Are there things you share with your children (or remember sharing with your parents) that are sacred?