Every morning, Oscar comes into our room at 7am. On the dot.
Loaded up with every little Angry Bird Star Wars figure he owns, using his shirt like a kangaroo pouch, he quietly comes into our room and says, “Hey guys? It’s time to get up. The big hand is on the 12 and the small hand is on the 7!”
Every day he wakes with excitement and readiness to start the day. Every morning I cringe when I hear the door open. Minutes later I feel a wave of guilt when I look at my sweet confident boy who is so eager to face the world.
Today he told us that he had a dream where he was at “Cat in the Hat Land” and the Cat in the Hat gave him a cookie and they watched The Wiggles together. He said it was a great dream and then asked what I dreamed about. I didn’t really have an answer. Did I have a dream? What was it? I can’t remember.
I think sometimes this is the part of growing up that I hate. I want my dreams back. I want my ability to dream back. It’s not enough to simply make it through each day. I refuse to settle for the bare minimum when I can focus on the beautiful. Some of my dreams died. Some of them came true. That doesn’t mean it’s over. As long as I live I can keep dreaming.
If I want to.
I love to teach my children new things. But I thrive when I can learn something from them. I often blame the innocence of a child on ignorance. In my jaded state I think it won’t last, sad but true. And I might be right. No one has a perfect life devoid of hardship. But as my boys grow and change and learn, I see that it isn’t that they don’t understand evil. It’s that they truly believe the good is bigger than the bad. They know it. This morning Oscar asked me to whistle the “darth vader song”. When I did he told me I made him smile.
You know what? The good IS bigger than the bad.
The trouble is, somewhere along the line I started to believe the bad was bigger, stronger, louder, and more powerful than the good. Some days (especially days like today) we adults might think it’s true.
We are wrong.
The good is bigger. It has always been bigger. It will always be bigger.
I don’t want to see the world through rose-colored glasses.
I want child-colored glasses.