As the pie baked, and the sweet smell of warm cherries filled the air, the kids got increasingly restless. First, they bounced in their seats. Then they graduated to jumping around the living room chanting, “Pie, pie, pie!” I didn’t need to see Ali’s face to know he regretted his decision to use sweets as bribery. I did my best to calm them, but it was like trying to reason with someone after hits on the bubble blower. I guess that’s yet another thing we need to discuss after dinner.
The pie was delicious. Ali definitely sold himself short that night we put a title on our relationship. He made his “special” bread for me and said it was one of the few things he made well. Honestly, everything he made was delicious.
The kids had their fill of pie and were very satisfied customers. I only hoped all that sugar wouldn’t escalate their behavior later. Ali got up to take care of the dishes, but I beat him to it. I smiled softly as I remembered how we used to try to wake up before the other and make breakfast back in the early days of our marriage. We fought playfully about who gets to cook. Other women would kill to have a man who plotted and schemed to take care of them. (sigh)
“Please, sit,” I said. “It’s the least I can do since I crashed the party and all, heh.”
He glanced at me, eyes full of regret. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“And you know I’m kidding. Why don’t you go relax? I can handle the kids tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course! We’ll have a little chat and do homework, bath time, read some stories, and I’ll put them to bed. Besides, you look like you could use some you time.”
His baby blue eyes said so many things, but mostly they were relieved. “Thank you. I think I do need that.”
I smiled. Making him happy still delighted me. “Don’t mention it.”
And with that, he disappeared upstairs.
I found Alessia outside climbing again and discovered a part of the problem. They haven’t learned about time management or responsibility and want to have fun all the time.
“Lessi, come inside, babe. We need to talk.”
“Ok, Mommy!”
She hopped off the monkey bars and ran inside immediately, something she probably never did for Ali. I gathered them back at the table, and we kicked off our discussion with balance. I asked them to imagine a scale—one of those old fashion kind lawyers use in their ads. When the scale is empty, it’s balanced because both sides are on the same level. One phrase they use a lot is “tip the scales of justice.” That means they will overwhelm the jury with truth, so the verdict comes out in their favor. This abundance of truth fills one side of the scale so much so that it weighs it down, therefore tipping the scale. Life is like that too. When we have too much of one thing, the scale isn’t balanced and things get out of whack. My babies might grow up with tunnel vision, only pursuing things that bring them pleasure and never seek to better themselves. Or maybe they’ll get lazy and quit things when they get hard.
“Hard things are good for us,” I said, remembering my triumph from earlier.
“How?” Luca asked.
“Because we learn something new, and learning new things makes us smart. Life is so much easier when you’re smart. When you’ve completed something hard, you’ll feel really good because you accomplished something you thought wasn’t possible. And if you keep doing hard things over and over, eventually they’re not hard anymore. Do you know what the best part is about doing hard things?”
“What?” they asked simultaneously.
“Sometimes, you get rewards.”
“Like pie??” Alessia shouted.
I laughed. “Sometimes like pie, but not all the time. Sometimes a reward is a simple feeling of satisfaction.”
They groaned at that, but I think after a few examples, they saw how intangible rewards maybe weren’t the worst things ever. But at their age, I wouldn’t expect anything else. I only hope they remember this chat, and when they’re older, they’ll see.
