• Angie

The Silva Trio

Updated: Apr 13, 2020

Let me introduce you to my three children, Samuel, Ava & Jacob, affectionately known by me as The Silva Trio. With a name like that, they can be a traveling band, a hapless group of magicians, or some such delight. But to me they are life. My life. Everything I do in this life of mine revolves around them. To see them here, you only see their surface beauty, of which they have plenty, what you don't see, what pictures never reveal, is their beautiful spirits. Their genuineness and altogether beautiful souls. They have a true love and affection for me that I sometimes feel is undeserved. They are quite funny, they possess a sense of humor that they inherited from both their parents. They have such kind natures, and are generally a pretty mellow bunch of kids.

Not to say they are perfect, for that they are not. As they approach adolescence, I do get much more pushback than I used to. In their chores for example, they fail spectacularly. Getting them to do chores is a chore in itself for me. I always knew my kids would never be those kids who talked back, but surprisingly (at least to me), is that they ARE those kids. I know, these beautiful kids are the very same ones that push me to the brink. Their beauty belies their bad attitudes that are often on display when asked to help out around the house. They push me to exasperation, and it's more drama than asking someone to clean their room warrants if we're being honest.

Any time I ask them to throw away their trash, or wipe down the sticky kitchen counter, frustration ensues. They always say, "in a minute", or "hold on a sec". But we must have drastically different interpretations of what a minute or a sec actually entails because 20 minutes later (or for those counting, 1200 seconds) that same sticky spot is still there on the counter. And now I have to be the bad guy and scream at the top of my lungs for someone to clean the mess. A thousand pardons and thanks to all my neighbors who haven't called the police yet. After I've expended all my energy yelling and possibly ruining my vocal cords (and all remaining hope of sounding like Celine Dion), I just have to let go and resign myself to cleaning the mess. I have learned long ago that some things just aren't worth arguing over.

Despite all these little frustrations with them, they are remarkably wonderful kids. Sometimes I've needed them to help me up when I've failed at one or many things. They have dealt with some things this last year that one doesn't wish for their children. They went from a home of security to splitting their time between two homes. I hate that they have to go through this, but of all things they deal with right now, I admire their resiliency and ability to adapt to these changes with a small modicum of grace, for which this situation requires. They in fact have more grace than their mother has shown. I have tried not to show bitterness, but I have a little in this regard. They love me despite my failings and they show it to me every day. I may not have riches and can't give them everything their hearts ask for, but I do have their love in abundance. And right now, that's all I require to help me get through our struggles.


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