“You can choose whichever one you like.”
A mother placed three bowls on a small kitchen table, preparing for snack time.
Her little girl peered over the edge of the table on her tippy-toes to choose which bowl would hold her favorite snack. You could tell by her eyes that she thought they were all alluringly perfect.
The blue bowl matched her shirt. She even paused to rest her hand on her chest to compare the hues as she whispered the word “blue” under her breath, but how could she ignore the bright yellow lemons in the orange bowl right next to it? Her eyes continued to dance as she looked at it, until she took a glance at the green bowl, which was dotted with small hearts daintily placed around its outer rim.
She grabbed the green bowl and turned to say, “I like the hearts!”
(Courtesy of Diamone Ukegbu)
A 4-year-old Joelle choosing a piglet she entreated mom to keep.
Her mother smiled back, but then the little girl changed her mind, spinning around to grab the blue one quick as a flash.
“But I think this one is the best choice,” said her daughter. “Now if the snack gets on my shirt, it will be blue, too! And no one will see I made a mess.”
She beamed proudly at her own reasoning as her mother laughed and scooped her up in her arms.
I loved watching this whole scene with my niece and nephews at this stage. It’s such a precious time where they’re old enough to grab something from a table, but not too far from a sweet snuggle.
That season is gone for me. My little ones are not that little anymore.
My youngest is entering his last year of elementary school and my oldest is entering her last year of middle school. And my middle one is nestled right in between this transition, with her first year as a middle schooler upon us.
In short, it’s the perfect storm for all sorts of new growth – for them and for me. So I’ve learned that my greatest adventure in parenting now is practicing the art of letting go, while never being too far away.
My three kids were tenacious and decisive from the start, as I recall their first days in the hospital after being born. Now, these little leaders have so much they want to try, explore and learn. Sometimes I’m their seat belt; other times they think I’m a noose.
Where adolescence seems to be an open road of freedom sometimes stunted by limitations and boundaries intended for good, the hope is that such limitations are protective, supportive and aiding growth. Still, they’re usually misunderstood.
How do we let them “choose the color of their bowl” in this stage of life so they can make bigger decisions in the future? After all, our headstrong children are likely to become the conviction-filled citizens and leaders of tomorrow.
Picking a snack that matches your shirt when you’re a toddler is one thing, but that kind of reasoning won’t fly while making bigger and more consequential adult decisions.
Oh, the conundrum!
So, this spiral brings me back to my tribe, the group of women I surround myself with that help me filter through my fears. I find their words a balm to my raw emotions and also a mirror, through which I see the mess I make. Hearing the stories of my dear sisters and friends, like Lisa Mozloom (a fellow Biscayne Times contributor), are sometimes just what I need to bring me back to a space of understanding and peace.
Now back to the letting go part. What if the Earth doesn’t give way and the choices my children are allowed to progressively make over the years lead them to be their best selves?
What if the same is true for us.
In previous articles, I’ve bellowed the need and resolve to be present for the playtime, the games, the silly stories and the rescue moments. This July, the month we celebrate freedom, should include the growing freedoms our children must experience to know that we are with them – and that they are building lives and identities of their own.
These little leaders, yours and mine, will change the world with each choice they make for themselves and others.
And all this started from choosing a bowl at snack time, all those years ago.
Diamone Ukegbu is a local Little Haiti artist, creative, mom and wife.