We have a set of double nine Dominoes, as part of our math manipulatives set. The other day, Jamayiawas lining them all up in some creative design, with the intent of knocking one over and watching the chain reaction. I offered to teach her how to play. She was eager to learn.
I separated the domino set, removing everything higher than double six. We picked out seven tiles each, and I began teaching her the basics. She caught on quite quickly, and her enthusiasm seemed to double. She knew that she had to watch the game area for the numbers at both ends and match them up with the tiles from her hand. If needed, she could pick up tiles from the extra pile.
Later that evening, we played again, as a family. Incredibly, this girl managed to find even more exuberance for the game. She remembered how to play and was having a blast. So much fun, that each time she lay down a tile, she stood up to dance and cheer. Hard. Jhyelle started copying her too. So now we had two princesses, dancing and cheering their hearts out after every turn.
It was adorable. Loud, yet neat to see their excitement and their passion for learning and celebrating even in a simple moment. While I was trying to get through a few rounds of the game, my older girls were relishing the game.
The thoughts started coming to my mind. When did I stop enjoying the learning process? At what age did I figure out that all inner joy must be restrained and contained, kept only to myself? And why? Not all situations call for such displays of excitement, of course. Discretion must be used. But by myself, in my home, where I have free reign to do whatever, should I not freely celebrate life?
Thanks, Jamayia, for teaching Mommy in this moment. Thanks for reminding me that there’s fun awaiting in every nook and cranny of our home.