i know i am a good mom when

I know I am a good mom when I pack a small bpa-free plastic container (festive, purple bottom/green top) with homemade meatballs and peas and rice and I remember the spoon too for our late afternoon trip to the park. I sense he is hungry and suggest a snack. He complies. He sits on my lap. I have one arm wrapped around his waist, holding the open container, with the other hand, I am scooping up spoonfuls of food. He has a grip on my wrist, guides the spoonfulls into his mouth when he is ready for them. Some rice grains fall off the spoon, onto my container-holding hand. He picks the grains off and puts them back in the container. I use my spoon-holding hand to help him with this.

I bring his new, expensive, Sigg sippy with us, the one he’d thrown a tantrum about a few weeks back, because I know the toddler friend we are meeting there has the same one. Jonah sees Laszlo drinking from his Sigg, and thus happily drinks the diluted apple juice in his own with no complaint.

At this same park, there is a massive brigade of sun-faded ride-on toys of nearly every imaginable size/shape/description. Nearly all of them have broken wheels, but they all still work. Several have been corralled underneath the play structure which is a series of wooden platforms joined by bridges. An abstract expressionist boat.

Jonah spots a Thomas the Tank Engine ride-on as soon as we arrive. As he toddles towards it, an older, faster boy runs around him and jumps on. Jonah is sad at first, but we find other things to play with: bucket loaders, dump trucks, etc.

Later another older boy has the Thomas. He is whipping it down the cement pathways at the closest to lightening speed that this toy and child could ever achieve. Jonah is desolate. He really wants to play with this train. No, I tell him. It’s that boy’s turn.

Half an hour later, Jonah still wants the train. I approach speedy-mc-speedyson and ask. “You’ve had the train for a long time. Jonah would really like to have a turn.”

At first the boy says no. Then mumbles something about just wanting to push it to the bench.

Okay.

Amazingly, he pushes it about two feet, and then relinquishes.

Pure. Joy. Ensues.

I take pictures with my camera phone and try to send them to Scott but coverage is spotty at this park.

Jonah plays with and on the Thomas for a while, until not only does he seem tired, but I realize it’s time for us to go home. I tell him we are going to go home now.

Again, amazingly, he doesn’t struggle. He gets off of the Thomas and says goodbye to it.

He’s sad though.

Wait, I tell him, we have pictures of you and Thomas!

I whip out the cell phone.

A huge smile spreads across his face.

Pure. Joy.

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I would like this to be the next meme to sweep the Internet. Do you have a good mom story? Anything, no matter how small. It all counts. If you would like, please tell me your good mom stories in the comments fields below — or write it on your own blog and post a link here.

Thank you.