When it Rains M&Ms: Savoring Sacred Mom Moments

Nov 1, 2018 by Jeanette Hanscome

Christian was about two and a half years old, maybe three, the day it rained M&Ms.

We were at Mom and Dad’s—the house on Calais Dr. that I grew up in. I opened the door to what was known as The Snack Cupboard to find something somewhat healthy to tide my preschooler over until dinner. What I reached for escapes me; all I remember is a large bag of M&Ms on the middle shelf and Christian standing beside me in striped Oshkosh overalls and a short-sleeved t-shirt. The bag of candy had been opened, rolled closed, and shoved between a box and the side of the cabinet, which worked nicely until I moved the box. The bag tipped and unrolled. Before I could catch it, colorful chocolate pieces started pouring out of the bag, out of the cupboard, and onto the floor. To my awe-struck little boy, it looked like the sky had opened and released a shower of sugary goodness. He immediately dropped to his knees and started popping M&Ms into his mouth before Mommy could stop him.

By the time I closed the bag, Christian had a mouthful and fistful of candy. The memory of that moment still makes me laugh. The way Christian’s hands lifted to the sky toward the shower like, Is this heaven? How quickly he hit the floor and started shoveling M&Ms between his rosy lips knowing he had a very small window of time and lots of candy to grab before an adult swooped in to ruin the fun. Me scrambling to close the bag then looking at Christian and, despite the chorus of parenting advice in my head telling me otherwise, not ruining the fun. Instead, I picked what was left off the floor and put it in a bowl.

I lifted Christian up, sat him in a chair, and unclenched his fist over a cup and let him finish his treasure. “Did it just rain M&Ms? How cool!”

I don’t know if he consumed five M&Ms before I got to him or ten, or how many dropped from his sticky hand into the cup. What I do know is, the day it rained M&Ms still feels like a magical moment. At the time, I had so many parenting experts telling me how to be the perfect mom of a perfect kid that trusting my instincts didn’t even seem like an option. When I did, I felt guilty because, according to someone, I was doing it wrong.

But on that day, I savored the sweetness of Christian devouring M&Ms. I did not empty his fist into the trash can and give him raisins.

For once, I recognized that I’d been raised on sugar and turned out fine.

On October 30, Christian turned 28. He has a full-time job, pays his bills, and eats a healthy diet. Nathan has consumed just as many M&Ms during his lifetime and his also on his way to becoming a responsible grown-up citizen. They aren’t perfect, but neither am I. I wish I’d caught on earlier that I didn’t have to be—that the best moms are just doing their best with God’s help.

One of my favorite mommy bloggers writes from her own imperfect parenting journey. That’s one of the many reasons I love Jami—that she lets us in on the chaos and joy that comes with being a mom. She just released her second book, Sacred Ground, Sticky Floors: How Less-than-Perfect Parents Can Raise (Sort of) Great Kids.

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This week, I have a copy to give away!

Share a funny or touching parenting moment in a comment (either here or on Facebook) and I will put your name in a drawing. If you can think of a time when you followed your instincts instead of the experts I’ll enter your name twice.