“Do you want to go get a smoothie?” I heard a mother ask her child as they were leaving the park. Yes, I have asked that question of my children many times. But as we all know; those smoothies aren’t cheap. They start to add up, and they do not grow on trees, (except for the fruit they use to make the smoothies). As I reflect on my childhood, I’m reminded of the many low-cost, smoothie-free, simple, bonding moments I had with my mom. And I’d like to create more of those for my children.
So, the other day I was taking out the trash. My four-year-old said, “I’ll help you.” Could this be a potential bonding moment? Maybe…. I say to her, “We can be the Mommy-Daughter team. We can be the Taking-Out-the-Trash team” and she was like, “No.” And I’m thinking, what happened to the good old days, when we bonded over the simple things in life? I remember when my mom would fry up some liver and onions, and slice a tomato for my lunch, when the big kids were at school. This happened on a regular basis. And I look back on those lunches with my mom fondly. Do people even eat liver anymore, cuz it was like chicken nuggets in my house! And fried onions were like fruit snacks, and sliced tomatoes were like Goldfish crackers. And since I’m talking about it, sardines were as accessible to us as string cheese is to my kids. Andthis explains why I was always begging food off of my friends! Me: “What is this?!” My Friend: “It’s called a ‘popsicle.’” Me: “What does it do?” My Friend: “You eat it. It’s very good.” She hands it to me. I wipe the dirt off my hands, clean the onions from under my fingernails, and reach for this mysterious treat. Delicious!!! But honestly, it would’ve been better had I been sharing it with my Mom. Move over popsicle, I’ll take the liver with a side of bonding
.
So, another special experience I tried for with my child has to do with singing. I remember my mother and I singing in the car on many occasions. We had our usual songs and we would often break off into harmonies. I cherished those cost-free, simple moments. So here I am in the car with my youngest. As I start to sing (happy to have her join in if she wants), she’s all, “Don’t sing!” Then she proceeds to tell me she made up a song for me. So, check it out, the words/lyrics were nice and all but the melody was all over the place. I’m pretty sure she was making it up as she went along. If she would have included me in this process, I probably could’ve smoothed out of the edges of her song, while bonding at the same time.
However, there is a sweet, cost free, simple, bonding experience that we are sharing, and it’s very special to me. She often picks me flowers, and find me feathers. Whenever she sees a feather in my house (we have down pillows on our couch), she picks it up and puts it in my pocket. And it’s not enough for her to hand it to me, she has to watch it go in my pocket. Recently, a friend and I went on a vacation across the country. Before leaving, my daughter put a feather in my pocket. I had forgotten about my feather and as my trip was winding down, I was standing in a store, and put my hand in my pocket. Out came the feather! I started to feel very sentimental and wanted to do something for her. I went to one of the city’s parks and found a pigeon feather on the ground. My friend saw what I did and was like, “That’s really gross.” And then my germaphobia kicked in and I was like “What did I just do?!” So, I put a bunch of hand sanitizer on it and then I found a bathroom and washed this fragile, once-fluffy feather with soap and water. And the feather was now a sickly looking little stick. But my daughter and I had something going, and I was determined to give her this cost free, simple but special gift.
I put the unrecognizable bird feather in a zip lock bag and packed it away. I got on my airplane and flew back across the country to my beloved home and family. I was met with hugs, kisses and “I missed you”s. Then came the moment for the gifting of the feather. What could go wrong? It was gonna be a big hit. I showed it to her, and she was like, “No.” Even weeks later, I tried again and brought the souvenir feather out, and she was still all, “Uh, no.” I get it, I get it.
We’ve had plenty of special moments and there are many more to come. I'll probably even continue to buy over-priced smoothies. And who knows, maybe one day when she’s an adult, she’ll pull me aside and say “Mom, come look at my old journal I found.” And there will be a page with a stick-figure drawing of the “Taking-Out-the-Trash Team” and maybe a sickly-looking feather taped next to it.
