To the average person, Morgan may seem like a very short thirteen year old.
Somewhere in the past year, Morgan's mannerisms and body have changed. Her plump baby fingers have become longer. She tells stories and moves her hands to add drama. She furrows her brow and uses the most adjectives she has at hand. She's very in touch with her feelings.
After a somewhat interesting afternoon with my pre-pre-teen (that's no typo) I told Morgan that I had something to show her.
I took her hand in mine and went out to the garden we planted. To the peas, specifically. About a week ago, I filled Morgan's palm with pea seeds. For those unfamiliar, they look just like shriveled peas but lack the luster of fresh ones. They're easy to pick up individually... perfect for little fingers.
I used my index finger to poke one inch holes in the soil and asked my fellow garden gal to put the seeds in them. Then we re-covered them with soil.
As I brought Morgan to the garden today, I showed her how the peas were now growing. I was thrilled. Seizing the Mommy-teaching-moment, I told Morgan this story:
"Morgan, see how the peas are growing? Well, the peas are like you. When I teach you new things about how to grow or make friends or be kind, it's like I'm putting a little seed in the ground. I don't know if what I'm telling you will ever grow into something more, but boy am I excited when it does."
I used my momentum to drive my point home.
"I am so proud of you, Morgan. You are growing into such a young lady. I'm so proud of the way you're learning to get along with friends and taking care of your sister. So proud."
I gave her a heart felt, Momma-couldn't-be-prouder smile. Yes, the dorky kind.
"Mom?" my sweet daughter asked.
"Yes, Morgan?"
"Can I play with Emily?"
Thud.
I released the hold of my teaching moment.
Smiling, I gently covered the seed with the soil again. Not yet, but maybe soon.
2 comments:
Ems,
You are so patient with her. She might pretend she's not listening - but she's hearing. I remember so many of the lessons my parents taught me when they were taught with patient love. The yelling, curt, "please just stop being bad" attempts - I don't remember them so much - they're vague and murky memories. Thankfully.
Keep at it, sister! She'll remember!
Oh I SO know how you feel. I feel this way with Anna many times throughout the day. I agree with Sarah's comments, though. If only I could remember not to do the whole "please just stop!" thing.
Post a Comment