We made Mother’s Day presents yesterday.  I explained to Josh as I handed him the mugs, the paint and the paintbrush what we were doing.  These are for Mimi and Grandma, I said. It’s Mother’s Day, and we give Grandma and Mimis presents to tell them how much we love them.

Josh’s brow furrowed.  “Birfday?” He asked.  Mother’s Day doesn’t mean much to him; presents and birthdays, those he knows about.   I nodded. “Kind of like a birthday, yeah.”

Josh scampered off his chair and over to his special cupboard.  Usually it’s just filled with plastic dishes and other things he likes to play with, but Josh pushed those aside and reached way back into the cupboard.  He pulled out a can of mandarin oranges and a can of chunked chicken, and brought them over to me. 
“For Mimi,” he said, handing me the chicken. “And Grandma,” he added, putting the mandarin oranges onto the table.  “Presents,” Josh said.

Suddenly I realized what he was doing.  Josh likes to store stuff.  We are constantly finding little stashes of things all over the house, and, apparently, Josh has been storing his favorite foods in his cupboard.  Chunked chicken and mandarin oranges–Josh would live on that if I’d let him.
These were the best things he had, and he wanted to give them to his Grandmas as presents.

My not quite-2-year-old got it.  These were presents for his Grandmas, and a painted mug wasn’t going to cut it.  Josh wanted to give them the very best of what he had.

I was so proud.
And so humbled.

Do I save the best for my family?  Who is getting my chunked chicken and mandarin oranges?  Am I giving that to work, my blog, everyone but my family?  Am I passing off trinkets to my son and my husband, when, really, I should be sacrificially giving them my very best?   

And somedays, especially at 37 weeks pregnant, my very best isn’t a three course dinner or a super clean house or even clean laundry—somedays, all I have to give is an hour cuddling in the chair with a little boy.  Some days, all I have is chicken and oranges, but still, to my tiny little son, that is everything.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s