My Tiny Guru

I recently read somewhere on the internet that "mothering is the shortest and steepest path to enlightenment."

I've been trying to keep that in mind lately as I navigate this sometimes maddening world of life with an almost three year old. Because there is no sense to those little people.

For example, Aedan has recently decided that spitting is really hilarious. Especially spitting on me. And there is nothing that enrages me quite like that. The anger is instant, and intense, and I just don't know what to do with it sometimes.

Last night, on my own because P had to work late, I cycled through all of my "tools". I told him sternly that we don't spit at people, that it is disrespectful. He laughed gleefully and spat upon me again. 

I told him again, with the same result. 

I tried ignoring him for awhile (which is really hard to do). No dice. 

Then I wanted to smack him, but I'm pretty sure that's not allowed, so instead I put myself on time out. I told him that Mama was really angry, and she was going to sit upstairs for a minute.

As I sat on our bed in the loft--with Aedan crying and banging on the gate across the bottom of the stairs--I wondered: what would the Buddha do if his almost three year old wouldn't stop spitting on him? What would Jesus do? Would they be calm and peaceful? Would they not react at all? I started to calm down a bit.

And then I realized that if the Buddha or Jesus ever had a child, it was likely home spitting on its mother while the enlightened ones were out meditating under a tree somewhere.

In the end, I declared bed-time. As Aedan flopped around in the bed, not at all tired or ready to sleep, I lay beside him, thinking about enlightenment and hoping that that anonymous person on the internet is right, and that I am on that path right now, my little guru cracking the whip over my shoulder, and spitting on the back of my head for good measure.