Every week on Shabbat I give Raphaela her grape juice in a small ceramic Kiddush cup, and every week I ask myself, "Is this the time that it falls and shatters into a million pieces?" And every week I trust my daughter and the cup survives to live another day.
Today during lunch, Raphaela seemed to paying less attention and the Kiddush cup made its way to the floor, breaking in enough smaller parts so as to be permanently unfixable. At first, Raphaela continued eating, completely ignoring the situation. I showed her the broken cup and she shrugged her shoulders, saying, "It's fine Mommy, you can glue it back together."
I pointed out that contrary to her belief than I can either fix anything or simply go our and buy a replacement, this particular ceramic ("not plastic") vessel has been in my possession for years, and it is unclear if I could even find the artist who made it, in order to find a new version. Even Miracle Mom has her limits.
Raphaela sat there in silence for five minutes, tears welling up in her eyes though she refused to cry. She brought over a water bottle and offered it up as a substitute, pointing out that it would be less likely to break as it was plastic. She also requested that we share my wine glass, and I said "No!"; I did not want to risk something even more breakable than ceramic. She took play dough out of her crafts drawer and attempted to mold a new cup.
Finally, Raphaela stood up from the lunch table, declared that she was NOT crying over this, and tucked herself into bed, where she napped for two hours.
I believe this is the first time she realized that her actions can have irreparable consequences.
No comments:
Post a Comment