This weekend was full of everything summer: sun hats and endless tomato sandwiches still warm from the garden sunshine, a long morning spent choosing lilies from our favorite Botanical Garden for our own garden next summer (I could not stifle out-loud laughter as Emil confidently chose the smallest, most unassuming variety and I read the name: “Totally Awesome” — because yes, Emil, you are small and totally awesome). It was a weekend of long walks and barefoot hours at the playground, pick-up soccer games in the park and late baths filled with filthy boys, a wonderful weekend indeed. 
I am in the middle of a single-parent stint while Andrew is out of town, but he will be back in a couple of days and all will be complete again! Things are a little less routine whenever he goes out of town; I take the kids out to eat and let them eat crap just so I can sit still for a moment (I admit), they go to bed a little too late and get a little more rambunctious around the house before I step in to quiet it all down…
I have been trying my hand at letting the older two work things out when they disagree and it starts to get ugly, allowing arguments to escalate but stepping in if it goes too far and starts to get physical. It works about half the time, ha! But I do feel really proud of them when they are able to negotiate rules or discover how to right a situation they have perceived to be unfair without needing an adult to step in. I’ll be honest, punches were thrown, but the discussions that followed were really good.
On Sunday morning I watched similar push and pull happen at the playground and stepped in just in time to discuss in hushed tones yet another disagreement that was heading down a physical path. All three boys were barefoot and shirtless as they stood in front of me, Milo under extreme distress because Oliver wouldn’t cooperate. I noticed a young grandmother nearby and felt her eyes on us the whole time. Sometimes I feel the judgment coming on in advance, but this time was pleasantly surprised when she said to me afterward, “You are a really wonderful mom.” It nearly brought tears to my eyes, the timing of it — coming off three days of intensity with the kids on my own and not so much sleep at night, and trying to stay in the moment with them and trying with all my might to be calm and wise and a teacher to them in the face of chaos and noise. And it made me realize that maybe I don’t say things like that enough to other parents. Those little bits of encouragement lift us up and even though I tend to try to give strangers space and be polite and respect privacy, there is something really great about lifting up a stranger in that way. 
And those who aren’t strangers, too. To tell the neighborhood dads who run like the devil with your kids during a neighborhood soccer game, “Thank you.” And then to put down the camera and get out there and sweat and run in your bare feet until your face is red and you can’t catch your breath, and you’re tripping over your own feet then falling down backwards in the itchy grass laughing your ass off. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!
Enjoy this Monday, and know that even when it’s sometimes really hard to do this parenting gig, there’s probably someone watching you and thinking that you are doing an amazing job.
What a wounderful uplifting post! Thank you.
Love this Lauren, we are so hard on ourselves (and others!), especially as parents, which always seems such a strange place for so much judgement. Great note on generosity and community, it takes very little to have a real impact.
This is pretty much the sweetest post <3 We don't say those things enough to each other in general, but especially on the art of parenting. When I meet polite, sweet and articulate kids at my work, I often remark on that to the parents, and they always look shocked and surprised, but happy. To see someone do that, to be calm and kind when dealing with a stressful situation with the small folks is really impressing. You are a wonderful mom.