HaHa and Clean Ceiling Moments

J.M Barrie wrote a fabulous scene in the beginning chapters of Peter Pan that you almost never see onstage or in film, but would be extremely funny and quite lovely in a new animated version. (Hint for new animators looking to write royalty checks.) The scene starts out one evening when Mrs. Darling is tidying up her children's minds at the end of the day after tucking them into bed:

All mothers tidy up their children’s minds when kissing them goodnight. After they have fallen asleep, mothers pick up stray items from their children's minds that need cleaning, and other items that need mending, and other items that need throwing away. But most of all, mothers collect from their children’s minds items that bring a smile and a tear.

Now some nights after finally getting children into the actual bed (and by getting into I mean staying, and by staying I mean not deciding to turn the light back on and read or draw ) I have been far too exhausted to approach any kind of tidying of minds or rooms. But on the J.M. Barrie nights, we get to read together, or chat, or relate who said what and then after family prayer comes hugs and more delay tactics. Those are the nights the mind tidying begins. Not just the children's but my own. I can focus on what went right that day or week, rather than keeping all of the bits of torn notes, discarded wrappers and outdated paperwork. I can look at the children and remember who they really are.

"But most of all, mothers collect from their children’s minds items that bring a smile and a tear."

I LOVE that! When we look at our children asleep or when we scrapbook or journal or blog or e-mail or photograph or sew (for them) or read (to them), or take a hike (with them) or talk about why dandelions fly, we are tidying up and highlighting those things that bring a smile and a tear. In the clutter of everyday life, mothers are needed to clean out the junk and grime and noise, and help their children focus on the moments of beauty and of laughter and of kindness. Some call it slowing down. Some call it setting priorities. Some call it sharpening the saw.

For me the tidying up of my own mind at night has been just as crucial as the bedtime tidying up of the children's minds. Many nights, I would nurse a newborn while typing an e-mail with my available right hand yearning for human contact in order to put life into perspective via the internet at two in the morning, giddy at the thought of having an e-mail response waiting for me in the morning from another adult who may or may not also be sleep deprived. Or sometimes, instead of typing, the smile and a tear came from simply being with that child, just the two of us in our own world at two in the morning. Most times not, as sleep deprivation is my kryptonite.

Collecting a smile and a tear. Taking inventory of the day. Patting ourselves on the back for the good moments. Forgiving ourselves for the bad moments. Remembering, oh remembering what went right, even if it was a horrible no-good, very bad day. I read once that a mom was trying terribly hard to find the good in a horrible no-good very bad mess of a bedroom and determinedly looked up and said,"Well, the ceiling is really clean!" Hey, she found the clean ceiling moment in that room. Not only that, but she found the HaHa moment (as opposed to the Aha! moment.) One of the things I loved about my husband when the kids were little, was that he could find the HaHa in the most heated of meltdowns. Having the imagination to find that ceiling comment, is straight out of his book. I've been trying to take pages out of that book the last twenty years. So quite literally here are just a few excerpts from pages of my "Kids' Sayings Journal" that have brought a smile and a tear.

Christian (age 18): Mom, you created a blog? Mom, a blog is a very big responsibility. You have to take care of it. Just because some of your friends have blogs doesn't mean that you are ready. (Clearly, my job is finished with him as our roles have now reversed.)

Victoria (at age 4, all Lucy-like): I'm gonna give you a uncle sandwich!

Joshua (at age 3, counting the pilled fabric balls on his blankie): Shhh! I'm counting my babies.

Spencer (at age 5, starting sentences with): As you know..... (I guess. How do YOU know and when did the fairies bring this twenty-year old changeling?)

Victoria (at age 7, having a pre-spelling test meltdown): I wish there were no such thing as a silent "e"!

Emily (age 3 quoting "The Producers"): Don't be stupid, be a smartie, come and join the naughty party! (Bless her heart, she had no concept of a Nazi Party. Although why she thought a naughty party was cool to sing about...)

(Mom to Christian age 4): What happened to the word, "please?" Christian: "I threw that word AWAY!" (Okay, manners communist.)

Looking over these, I wonder if they are funny only to me. In my mind I see the expressions and the normally obedient child say something outrageously naughty, or the pure innocence and complete belief in something as sweet as counting and protecting fabric babies on a blanket. That's what makes our collecting and cleaning of our children's minds so unique and personal---and what brings that smile and a tear. Finding those HaHa moments and clean ceilings in the context of chaos. It's what we do. Mrs. Darling would be proud.