Dear Eldest,

When I was eight years old I quit learning how to crochet after I learned the first and most basic stitch. The chain stitch. The next step up was “too hard”.

Now, at thirty-two I am learning to crochet. I’ve made it to the start of a third row about fourteen times, declared that there were too many mistakes, and asked you to help me pull it out so that I could start again. And you have.  You’ve unraveled my work over and over and I’ve started again.

I told you that when you learn how to tie your shoes, I’ll crochet you a bright red scarf.

I have also told you that the reason I am learning this now, awkwardly, is because as a child I gave up without ever really even trying. I said “too hard” and walked away for twenty-four years. I told you that the biggest regrets that I have are not the mistakes that I have made, but the times that I have given up for fear of making more mistakes.

You listen quietly.

In your room sits a pair of black shoes with bright blue laces, gifted to you from your Auntie Lisa. Your goal is to wear those to school. I told you that you can do this as soon as you learn to tie your laces all by yourself.

First you make an X and pinch it at the middle.
Then you pull one side through the bottom of the X.
Then you pull both sides tight.
Then you make two bunny ears.
Then you cross the bunny ears and the bottom loop is the head. How cute.
Then you pull one ear through.
And pull it tight.
And you’re done.

It’s too hard!

But now you can do the first three steps. Just four more to go.

I think it is important, this watching-me-fail thing. I don’t want to be some omnipotent adult that you see as a God. I want you to see me as a work in progress, which I am and will be until the day that I cease to live. There are many things out there for me to learn, just as there are many things out there for you to learn. Some of them are things that you need to catch up on. Some are things that we’ll learn together. Some are things that we’ll learn apart.

I want you to see me get frustrated.

I want you to listen to my inner dialogue that I force myself to speak out loud as I talk myself through trying again and not giving up.

I want you to see my awkward efforts.

And my trying-again.

And I want you to celebrate with me when I get it a little bit better. And a little bit better. And a little bit better still.

I know that someday soon you’ll tie those shoes of yours and wear them to school where you can show off your newfound skill.

I’m hoping that I can make good on that promise to crochet you that bright red scarf.

And I’m hoping that you’ll still like the color red by the time I’m done.

You see.. Unlike you, my five year old “It’s TOO HARD” child.. I learn slow sometimes.

And that’s okay.

❤ Mama