In my mid-twenties, I fancied myself a golfer. Sure, I’d never held a golf club before, or been on the links, but I was determined. Don’t ask me why. I bought myself some clubs and lessons.
Truthfully, I sucked. Badly. But I had a friend who took mercy on me and took me out to play nine holes on a few occasions. We would also go out and smack away at buckets of balls at the driving ranges. It was fun.
I never got good. I gave it up after a couple years, but I always remembered something my friend said to me. He told me to forget all the bad shots (and there were many), and to remember only the good shots. Nearly 15 years later, I still remember the best shot I ever took when I sent the ball about 250 yards down the green.
I thought about remembering the good shots today.
We had a wonderful trip to the beach. It was a huge success. We got there and back without incident. We played in the water and sand on a perfect, sunny day. Every one was happy and relaxed. We came home and took warm showers to refresh ourselves, and then Emily and I lounged on my bed and watched Kipper on the Ipad while Jack played and my husband worked.
It was idyllic.
I nipped out for an errand to buy gifts for Jack, who turns seven next week. With a heart full of love and gratitude, I chose some science experiments, art supplies, and toys for outdoors.
I got home to find the kids hungry and tired.
We tried to mobilize everyone for a trip to Panera, but Jack disintegrated into a tantrum. I thought about the trunk of my car which was filled with birthday toys for Jack, and felt frustrated, hurt, and offended by his behavior.
Some days, tantrums seem the bane of my existence. They threaten to throw my entire day and emotional state off course. I feared this would be the case when Jack started his antics after our dreamy day.
But in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t last very long. I tried to shake off my frustration, and the fear that I was sucking as a mom, and remembered all the happy moments earlier in the day. I reminded myself not to take his behavior personally.
I thought of how happy the kids were splashing in the surf, how nicely they cooperated with us and one another, and how encouraged I was by our simultaneous and mutual enjoyment.
I remembered the good shots of the day.
Eventually, things settled down. We ate pizza. I read stories with Emily who was extra cuddly and wanted a lot of nursing time. The children were exhausted and went to bed early.
Fifteen years from now, I know what I will remember about today.
Tell me about some of your good shots, and how they overshadowed a rough patch. I love hearing from you! I also love when you follow me on Twitter @Momasteblog!