No one holds me as accountable for anything as my two-year old does for
everything.
The other day I was getting Brayden ready to go to school. We took one
last trip to the bathroom before heading out the door. As he was doing his
business, he commented that I needed to clean the toilet. Oh, really, little man. You can eat food off the floor without
flinching but can’t pee into a toilet that is a bit less sparkly than it could
be. I laughed at his very high standard of bathroom cleanliness and ushered
him to the sink to wash his hands. “Please clean the toilet for me, mommy” he pleaded
in that sweet little voice he usually reserves for requesting an extra book at
bedtime or five more minutes of hockey before dinner.
“I’ll clean it while you
are at school”, I said to appease his concern, as silly and ironic as it seemed. And there it was. An empty promise. In my defense, it was a completely
unintentional one. I typically use Brayden-free Friday mornings to do these
types of chores because it’s easier to clean toilets and resurface hockey
rinks mop floors while only having to keep the potentially dangerous
cleaning supplies away from ONE toddler. It just so happens that on this
particular Friday, that one toddler took a random morning nap. And this chronically
sleep-deprived mother took one too.
Fast forward a couple of hours and it was time for pick-up. Feeling
refreshed from a nap and a shower, I applauded myself for successful time
management during the morning. Little did I know, I wasn’t deserving of this self-praise.
Because the very first thing my darling Brayden asked when he spotted me at the
door to his classroom was, “Mommy! Did you clean the toilet?” While his
teachers found this hilarious, I was a bit humiliated. I mean, what would my
kid’s excitement over a clean toilet imply of my housekeeping? Of this poor
child’s living conditions? Not to mention that fact that I hadn’t actually
cleaned the toilet… so I was both a keeper of dirty washrooms AND a liar.
Ugh. Mommy fail.
On the ride home, I fessed up that I hadn’t gotten around to cleaning
the toilet. Fortunately, Brayden was very forgiving. But the whole situation
made me think about how loosely I sometimes say I’m going to do things. How the
other day, he’d nearly cried when Tyler ripped a page of one of his books and
I’d yet to tape it like I promised. How I’d forgotten to get strawberries
elsewhere after we saw they were sold out on our last grocery shop. They are
harmless things really. But that’s not the point. The point is that follow-through
is so incredibly important. I don’t know that I will forever doom my child to issues with accountability if I
fail to do those little things I say that I’ll do now. But, what if? I shuddered
to think.
I knew what had to be done. The toilet didn’t really need to be cleaned,
but I needed to model follow-through. So that’s what I did when Brayden was
napping. And guess what happened later that afternoon when he used the sparkly,
fresh bathroom…
Did I see flashes of his future, a future full of follow-through… a
seven-year old teaching Tyler to tie his shoes to make good on a promise, a
teenager replacing the toilet roll like I made him swear he would, a new father
taking his own babies to the park like he said he would? Ok, not really. But I did get a very adorable smile and a gracious “Thank you mommy for
cleaning the toilet for me!” And that’s more than I need to keep me doing those little things… taping the ripped page of his
favorite book, remembering strawberries at the grocery store, cleaning the
bathroom... Because those small, seemingly insignificant things actually matter.
To one of the people that matters most.
Sarah, Thank you so much for giving me a good laugh this morning.. I am still smiling!!
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