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Lessons in forgiveness
I'm a bad mom. Downright disgusting.
Well, yesterday, for example. Tired at work. Stood two hours in traffic. Parked a block from my house, terribly cold, and still slipped. Love (here it is, a childhood sport!), but I pulled back (here it is, approaching old age!). And along with the back I pulled the mood.
As there is a science called? Mom is not online? So – mom's online! You know, a mother with disabilities.
I come home, the front door pulling on a mask of good moms, and begin cheerfully talking with my son and cook dinner.
And then Matthew spills his milk. Well, it's for him. And for me this is POURING MILK!!!
I with noise exhale, wipe table, chair, floor and cute he smile. The night will have to wash the floors in the apartment. Smile I go out crooked and unnatural. The son of incredulous glances at me, sideways, sideways moves in the direction of the bath — away from sin. He is four is not a fool, and not even knowing the words "not online", understand that can now be punished.
In the bath he smears on the mirror, toothpaste, a beautiful patterned curls. He is waiting for the New year and brings it closer.
Photo: Kate Vellacott
I walk in his teeth, not to teach the son of profanities, and give him the rag. The night will have to wash and mirror. My mask is a good mom already ran the crack, and I go to the balcony in an attempt to regain its equilibrium.
And then the son decides to surprise me and wash myself. He climbs in the tub and soaping herself from the soul – exactly half the bottle of liquid soap. Soap, which stands in the market as much as 57 rubles.
And then I breaks. As a pipe. And the pipe from the toilet.
I yell something about the hands are not there. About "anything useful, and then some cars on the mind." Throw threats never (do you hear, NEVER!!!) no longer buy any toys, just the sort of irresponsible attitude to things. On the cost of the labor of others. About the price of money. Everything there is usually shouting "disgusting" mom.
I know how to scream. A whole bunch of do not know, and I live special. Arrange the Olympic games in the Creek, and I become the pride of the country. But there are none, I stand and shout at the son. I have a personal home competitions. I'm right at the finish line, I bypass all participants.
Drink too much neighbor is a policeman on top of already put on his helmet and began to dig.
A suspicious neighbor-the old woman left, probably calls the police.
Darling mother of three children from the bottom will give a hand to bet that this poltergeist are now screaming because I'm the one, she meets each day on the stairwell — so scream can't.
But I can. And shout.
Matthew stands in the tub, burying face in her hands, and between fingers pour huge tears. Tears of pain, resentment and betrayal of the closest person. Tears, which I estimated at 57 asanovski rubles.
He doesn't understand half of the words that I cry, only sobbing: I'm so sorry, I never...
He goes to sleep. Shrunken, haggard, thin shoulders and protruding blades.
And I stay awake all night. I live this evening minute by minute. Again and again, look at what you've done. And such despair as a child, when something is already done, and how to fix it – don't know. I'm consumed with guilt. Not even eating, it eats me whole. Piece by piece bite off my confidence in the mother. And just as adequate an adult.
It seems to me that guilt is the only thing that redeems the pain that I caused my son. Forcing another to suffer, you should suffer yourself. This is very true.
But the kids, they like the sun: whatever the gloomy night, in the morning they jump and smile as if nothing had happened. Here and Matthew in the morning comes to lay in my bed, back to bed and flippers.
I can now keep quiet and let it pass. You can forget about yesterday and enjoy today.
Or is it not?
Have no right, because it's not fair. And you can't teach my son honesty without being honest myself.
So I crawled to him and, having collected will in a fist, starting to apologize. This difficult but necessary conversation.
— You know, son, I'm here all night, couldn't sleep, I was thinkin ' ... yesterday I was so wrong. Not worth this stupid soap our fight. I'm just too tired yesterday and could not resist. Now I'm ashamed of my behavior. I'm sorry. I never...
And the children, they like the sun. They forgive immediately and from the heart. They have some very different, not stale, not touchy, not vindictive. They haven't pollute their little souls with the world of adults.
10 things about my mom, who still need to tell the childCOMFORTABLE the child is NOT very easy to live — yesterday I was lying, mom, says son — I think... I think I was wrong, too. Well, with this soap. It was not worth it so much to pour. Let's not talk so much to fight...
I lie there and cry. Such clean tears. Help you to understand something important. And to go to a new day with new knowledge — knowledge that you gave your child. To go and promise yourself not to forget these important lessons of forgiveness.
Never, you hear NEVER!!! published
Author: Lelia Tarasevich
Source: liwli.ru/children/uroki-proshcheniya/
Well, yesterday, for example. Tired at work. Stood two hours in traffic. Parked a block from my house, terribly cold, and still slipped. Love (here it is, a childhood sport!), but I pulled back (here it is, approaching old age!). And along with the back I pulled the mood.
As there is a science called? Mom is not online? So – mom's online! You know, a mother with disabilities.
I come home, the front door pulling on a mask of good moms, and begin cheerfully talking with my son and cook dinner.
And then Matthew spills his milk. Well, it's for him. And for me this is POURING MILK!!!
I with noise exhale, wipe table, chair, floor and cute he smile. The night will have to wash the floors in the apartment. Smile I go out crooked and unnatural. The son of incredulous glances at me, sideways, sideways moves in the direction of the bath — away from sin. He is four is not a fool, and not even knowing the words "not online", understand that can now be punished.
In the bath he smears on the mirror, toothpaste, a beautiful patterned curls. He is waiting for the New year and brings it closer.
Photo: Kate Vellacott
I walk in his teeth, not to teach the son of profanities, and give him the rag. The night will have to wash and mirror. My mask is a good mom already ran the crack, and I go to the balcony in an attempt to regain its equilibrium.
And then the son decides to surprise me and wash myself. He climbs in the tub and soaping herself from the soul – exactly half the bottle of liquid soap. Soap, which stands in the market as much as 57 rubles.
And then I breaks. As a pipe. And the pipe from the toilet.
I yell something about the hands are not there. About "anything useful, and then some cars on the mind." Throw threats never (do you hear, NEVER!!!) no longer buy any toys, just the sort of irresponsible attitude to things. On the cost of the labor of others. About the price of money. Everything there is usually shouting "disgusting" mom.
I know how to scream. A whole bunch of do not know, and I live special. Arrange the Olympic games in the Creek, and I become the pride of the country. But there are none, I stand and shout at the son. I have a personal home competitions. I'm right at the finish line, I bypass all participants.
Drink too much neighbor is a policeman on top of already put on his helmet and began to dig.
A suspicious neighbor-the old woman left, probably calls the police.
Darling mother of three children from the bottom will give a hand to bet that this poltergeist are now screaming because I'm the one, she meets each day on the stairwell — so scream can't.
But I can. And shout.
Matthew stands in the tub, burying face in her hands, and between fingers pour huge tears. Tears of pain, resentment and betrayal of the closest person. Tears, which I estimated at 57 asanovski rubles.
He doesn't understand half of the words that I cry, only sobbing: I'm so sorry, I never...
He goes to sleep. Shrunken, haggard, thin shoulders and protruding blades.
And I stay awake all night. I live this evening minute by minute. Again and again, look at what you've done. And such despair as a child, when something is already done, and how to fix it – don't know. I'm consumed with guilt. Not even eating, it eats me whole. Piece by piece bite off my confidence in the mother. And just as adequate an adult.
It seems to me that guilt is the only thing that redeems the pain that I caused my son. Forcing another to suffer, you should suffer yourself. This is very true.
But the kids, they like the sun: whatever the gloomy night, in the morning they jump and smile as if nothing had happened. Here and Matthew in the morning comes to lay in my bed, back to bed and flippers.
I can now keep quiet and let it pass. You can forget about yesterday and enjoy today.
Or is it not?
Have no right, because it's not fair. And you can't teach my son honesty without being honest myself.
So I crawled to him and, having collected will in a fist, starting to apologize. This difficult but necessary conversation.
— You know, son, I'm here all night, couldn't sleep, I was thinkin ' ... yesterday I was so wrong. Not worth this stupid soap our fight. I'm just too tired yesterday and could not resist. Now I'm ashamed of my behavior. I'm sorry. I never...
And the children, they like the sun. They forgive immediately and from the heart. They have some very different, not stale, not touchy, not vindictive. They haven't pollute their little souls with the world of adults.
10 things about my mom, who still need to tell the childCOMFORTABLE the child is NOT very easy to live — yesterday I was lying, mom, says son — I think... I think I was wrong, too. Well, with this soap. It was not worth it so much to pour. Let's not talk so much to fight...
I lie there and cry. Such clean tears. Help you to understand something important. And to go to a new day with new knowledge — knowledge that you gave your child. To go and promise yourself not to forget these important lessons of forgiveness.
Never, you hear NEVER!!! published
Author: Lelia Tarasevich
Source: liwli.ru/children/uroki-proshcheniya/
