Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Help

I read a really great book called The Help by Kathryn Stockett... and although I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a good read, it's not what I want to write about today. I've had what I'll call a little mothering paradigm shift and I want to write it down 1) so that I'll never forget these sweet moments and 2) because I'm sure that it won't be long before I'll need a reminder. What I want to write about today is the help that I receive each and every day as I go around doing my stuff.

Ziya's new favorite thing is to help me with whatever I'm currently doing. Whether it be cooking something in the kitchen, folding laundry, making my bed or scrubbing a toilet, she wants to be right there (actually, being there is not enough; she wants to be totally involved). She knows how to measure flour in a cup, lock and turn on the mixer, change laundry from one machine to the other, sort socks and pile them according to what room they will go in, and wash and dry dishes among many, many other things. The curious thing is that she'd rather be doing any of these things than playing with her dolls, puzzles, or any of her other stuff.

I love the way she carries her stool into the kitchen so she can reach things.
She does this at least five times each day.

My dilemma is this: she slows me down, way down. I found myself getting annoyed by this a few days ago (I felt like I spent the entire day in the kitchen with her on that particular day) and I was complaining to Jacob about it at the end of the day.

Still thinking about this, the very next morning, I purposefully woke up early so that I could make my bed and bake the breakfast muffins without any help. I did feel a little guilty about my stealthiness, but I thought it was worth it. Sure enough, my bed was made in a record two minutes and I didn't spill a single ounce of flour or make a huge sudsy mess in the kitchen sink. My new annoyance was that I couldn't help but feel guilty as images of my little "Z" popped in my head... her wriggly little body squirming around under the covers that she has jumped under "just one more time" and the cute way she holds the stool to carry it into the kitchen so she can reach things. Not only did I feel guilty the entire time I was working, I also found myself actually missing my help. I decided to add scrambled eggs to the breakfast menu just so she would have something to help me with when she came downstairs. And yes, one egg was splattered on the counter top... but I was o.k. with it.

This happened on Saturday morning. It's only Tuesday, but I've been a lot more patient with my help. I'm thankful for my help. I love my help. And even though there will still be times when I will ask my help to go and play so that I can get my stuff done, I hope to always appreciate and love my help.

P.S. I have thought about writing this post ever since Saturday, but I only had the one picture to post with it. So today I thought I would get a picture of my little help on her stool. By the time I remembered, Kenai had dragged this bucket of wheat from the pantry to the counter so he could wipe the counters for me. Now I have two helpers. I'm especially glad I've written this because now more than ever, I'm sure I'll need the reminders that this is a good thing, a really good thing!

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Just two more cute pictures of the partners in fun.


Chelsey said...

Good to be reminded how much we need our "help" around even though they slow us down. I don't know if you knew Dave Mouritsen from our mission (he was one of Brad's mission companions) but he just lost a daughter to e-coli. It sure makes you appreciate your own and their health so much more when something so tragic happens. I love this post.

joni said...

You are such a good mom Berenice. You inspire me.

Pam Gomez said...

Bless Dave Mouritsen's precious daughter... I enjoy your writing and the sweetness of the stories. Both your helpers are cutie pies and getting taller by the minute!