A Doctor a Day
May 11, 2011 § 1 Comment
It’s so much harder not to spoil Hike than it is to give him everything he wants. I mean, he calls cookies “doctors” for gosh sakes and then he sits in his car seat and says this over and over: “Doctor? No. Doctor? No. Doctor? Please? No.”
It’s hard not to interpret this monologue. It seems to me that this kid knows—he knows—his mama almost always says “no” to a doctor. But that doesn’t stop him from dreaming. From posing the question. From looking rejection straight in the eye and asking anyway.
It’s not like I always say no to a doctor. Sometimes I say yes. Sometimes I spring it on him– “Hike, do you want a cookie?” I savor these moments because they inevitably yield “the look.” You know– the one where your sweet baby looks at you like you’re his everything.
Which is why I’m tempted to buy a fanny pack and stock it chock full of cookies.
Took a tumble? Here’s a Snickerdoodle.
Had a tough day? Would a macaroon make it better?
Nothing fixes uh-oh like O-R-E-O!
I know though. I know giving in on the cookies will only get me so far. I remember kids from my childhood who always had well-stocked cabinets and I also remember how hard it was for me to get them to see the value of what they had there. They took it for granted. Which thinking back, suggests their mama had to really step it up to get her fix of adoring looks.
They say parenthood is about sacrifice, but I’m starting to realize it isn’t just about sleep and time. In fact, those are easy sacrifices to make. The hard ones are the ones you make as you stop settling for what is easiest or what makes you happiest and start working on your dream of a son who is better, stronger and more thoughtful than you.
The hardest sacrifices are the ones you make as you look your selfish needs straight in the eye and say “no” to the doctor.