03/24/2025
Tonight the Sunday scaries are less about the week ahead, and more about the moment I keep replaying in my mind.
This weekend, we were on an adventure walk at the lake. My husband asked my son if he wanted to throw a rock, and handed him a big one. My son handed ME the rock and said, “Here you go, Mommy.” I thought it was for me to throw, so I launched it into the water.
So when I looked at him expecting to see the joy from the big splash it made and instead saw the most heartbreaking expression… I realized I messed up. SO big.
It wasn’t a rock to throw. It was a gift. A treasure he’d picked just for me. We both love cool rocks and he’s such a giver… I literally threw his gift.
I carried him along the beach while he sobbed—wind picking up, sun dipping lower. I could feel the urge rise in me: to distract, to fix, to say “it’s okay” or “we’ll find another.” To move on.
But instead, I kept coming back to the only thing that mattered: loving him through it. I apologized again and again—for misunderstanding, for throwing away something that mattered. I told him I was so sorry. I didn’t rush his sadness.
Eventually, he was ready for a re-do and he picked a new rock. He gave me a do-over. He let me try again to get it right.
It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being present. He won’t remember everything… but I hope he remembers I own mistakes and that I love him including ALL of his feelings.
If you’re parenting in the mess and the mending, you’re in good company. This is the heart work.
