Sometimes I wonder who is learning more about life right now, me or my seventeen month old son? Rafferty sees the world as his to conquer. He is learning new words, including primary colors, the names of his cousins, and foods. Yesterday's words: thunder and kombucha. Today's learning project: legos.
Oh boy.
We bought him a small pack of the challenging toys, hoping to stimulate our big boy into problem solving. This new purchase has thrown our son into a love-hate relationship with America's favorite building block. He clearly loves the legos, as they are the first thing his chubby hobbit feet run to out of the crib. He also apparently hates the impossible game as he has now learned to grunt in frustration even before reaching for one.
I know he is still young to figure this type of toy out on his own, so I sit and help the sausage fingers line up the holes and make a match. Over. And over. And over . . . and over.
My son, "The Thinker", as my dad calls him, dresses his face with the most concentrated of expressions, and he is determined. I tell him amidst each frustrated screech, "it is okay to struggle, you can do it." His look in response resembles doubt and he signs please for some help. Another cycle of over and overs and "There! You did it!". He claps and is the conquerer of the world as he set out to be.
I don't desire to conquer the world, so much as to simply stick with my own hard stuff, put on my most concentrated face and keep going to completion.
Even as I doubt my ability to accomplish much, the nearly much of life isn't the fullness I crave. I want to finish what I set out to do, the little things building the bigger. I speak of struggle to my baby, yet I flee from it myself, be it mental pursuits, household battles, spiritual harvests, or taking on the post-baby fat held on by too many late night sweets.
Perfection, my ever lurking enemy, tells me I must never fail (the Liar whispers that failure marks me unlovable). This is not realistic or encouraging. I simply pray for the maturity and discernment to know which learning projects I should pursue, and finish what I have started. The best choice at times may be to put aside what I started, if my priorities are not being met, but I shudder at becoming the woman who cuts loose all efforts because I have sweat on my brow. Rewards come with the sweat.
Learning to stack legos is a little thing, but this battle of struggle to success is a mountain at seventeen months! Thank you, baby boy, for teaching your mommy. I look forward to my next lesson.
