Tonight, my 15-year-old daughter is playing with slime in our living room. She and her friends mixed glue with food coloring, contact lens solution, glitter and baking soda at our dining room table, and now they're sort of throwing it around.
The preschool mom in me is wondering whether it would come out of their hair if it were to find its way there, and I wonder if their sweatshirts will get stained. But I stay quiet. I pour my own tea, head town to hang out with my husband, and feel glad they've chosen my house for this particular event.
"Do you guys want some hot chocolate?" I ask.
"Do we have the Mexican kind and whipped cream?" says Emma, laying on the floor with glittery slime spread across her chest.
"Yes, I'll make some."
"Mom, aren't you proud of us?" she asks me.
"Yes, always," I say, rounding the corner to the kitchen. I peek my head back around.
"Wait, For what?"
"For not doing drugs. For staying home instead and playing with slime." emma says this without looking at me.
"Yes, dear."
As I stir the cake of mexican chocolate into the milk and heat it on the stove, I start wondering: how many of the kids at their school are doing drugs? i suppose this is the curse of being parent to a teenager: i only really know so much, and of course there's plenty to worry about.
my daughter is at a time in her life now that i remember very well myself. she is younger than most of her friends, so they are out getting their driver's licenses and finding jobs when she still has her permit, and is spending most of her free time still at home with us. Today, I am going to drink that in and enjoy it.
Mindfulness involves living in the moment. the more I do that day to day, the happier I am. Let’s make some slime!