James is a mirror.
Yesterday I had a low parenting moment. James had every contraption/toy/iPad on and the noise brought my nerves to a boiling point. It was in the evening and I had just completed my daily whirlwind couple of hours of picking up James, walking Leia, feeding Leia, feeding James, preparing my lunch for the next day, washing dishes, and was just sitting down to eat my own dinner when the chaotic noise came to its frothy head. James has a habit of turning electronic toys on and then walking away. In his wake is often a symphony of bleeping, blooping, low-res mush of sound. I yelled at him. And the look on his face brought me to my knees. Literally. I (hopefully) showed him with a hug that sometimes Dad does stupid, impulsive things like yell about toys. But what I saw in his face was a reflection of myself being an asshole. Yes, people make mistakes. I make plenty. And James is there to show me how many mistakes I make. Or maybe he's here to teach me.
James also helps me know that I can be good, too. I can make him laugh with a goofy face and that's worth everything. His happy demeanor speaks volumes as far as I'm concerned. My goal in life is to bring him joy and happiness. Fortunately, his face proves to me that I might be doing okay with that goal.
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