Monday, April 25, 2011

At the end of the day it's just a plastic egg.

How to manage disappointment. Tricky thing. Whether you are eight or eighty it is something we all struggle with.

Yesterday was Easter. We do this insanely wonderful thing year after year; we fill anywhere from 800-900 plastic eggs with chocolate, invite upwards of 60 family/friends/neighbors over on Easter morning and watch the kids devour the hunt in a minute-thirty, tops. We lollygag and hang out with coffee, mimosa's and ridiculously yummy food all the while enjoying the Spring morning. Most kids walk away with 20+ eggs. We have been doing this for a decade and it is great fun. Chaotic, chocolate dripping from the ears of the kids, fun.

I only have two rules: don't trample the emerging flowers in the garden and share.

If you are older and have more eggs it is your moral duty to share with the younger kiddo's. Over the years there has been little drama, the hunt has gone surprisingly without incident. No"but she has more than me or I wanted that egg!!"

I think it is because of my T.I.H.I.I. policy--This Is How It Is.

Haven't heard of it? It's my lifeline in the world of parenthood. Such a secret is worth millions, but I am feeling especially generous today, a bit of mimosa haze from the holiday is lingering so I will spill it.

T.I.H.I.I.

With everything.

Toys.

Hair products.

Dinner fare.
Especially dessert.

Friendship.

Family.

Mom's energy level.

and most definitely all life lessons.

Did I mention plastic eggs?

 Yesterday my Isabel came rushing up to me telling me her baby Brother smashed (gasp) her favorite shiny green egg!!
Now granted it was an accident (her words not his) but still! The injustice! The horror! The world is not spinning correctly- hello- he broke her shiny green egg!!!!

Now what to do, what to do... insert empathic look. Hand to the shoulder. Apology. Yes, that was a terrible thing that happened.
But, and here it comes...it's just a plastic egg.  T.I.H.I.I. Baby.

She got it. After years of Pavlovian-like training, she got it. All was right again, she forgave the crime and moved on with her day. There would be other eggs.

I like to think I have just saved her thousands in therapy bills.

So much of my disappointment and anger in life has been centered around the "unfairness" of my situation. My Mother's brutal end. Not getting to Grad school. My Italian hips. But what if instead of focusing on the road that led to these things I just- after many good cry's and a pot of chamomile tea- looked at it for what it is.

As in: this is how it is.

Life is not fair and eggs are going to get smashed. But what we can give to ourselves and others is the gift of resiliency, willfully keeping calm and carrying on as the Brits used to say. It's what generations before us did, it's entirely what Annie did.

I'm thinking there is a roadmap here.

I'm thinking I'm going to see where it takes me and my lovely Italian hips.

2 comments:

  1. Yes, take that road! Take it and shake it...and be grateful for those hips to do so with! ;)

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