This has not been a good week, a pretty week. Every week has its ups and downs, and with my children, there are always struggles and challenges. For some reason, this week has brought me to my breaking point. I’ve felt at times like the wee ones are purposely trying to find ways to drive me up the wall, though I know that can’t be true.
Separating what I know from what I feel can be a challenge sometimes, especially when I’m fighting off a cold and haven’t slept well in who knows how long. I know my temper is short, but this week has just been rough.
- The wee ones forgot to ride the bus yesterday and waited in vain for me to show up to pick them up from school
- When it poured down sheets and sheets of rain on Monday, I caught Mister Man upstairs in his room opening his window – that overlooks our wood floors
- Little Miss was in Mister Man’s room long after bedtime, sneaking his LEGO magazines
- Little Miss came downstairs three times with various complaints ranging from “All I see is monsters upstairs” to “I’m hot” (while wearing flannel, long sleeve pjs
- Mister Man was reading at 10pm with a flashlight in his room
- Little Miss was reading under her covers 2 hours after bedtime
- Mister Man was supposedly in bed, yet he hadn’t changed into pjs or brushed his teeth
- I found clean, unworn clothes in Little Miss’s laundry basket
- Mister Man spilled bread crumbs all over the kitchen floor and neglected to clean them or tell anyone
- Someone has stopped flushing the toilet. Ever.
- Mister Man left his Kindle and homework at school (again), realizing this 10 minutes before we had to leave before social group and while I had dinner in the oven and couldn’t leave, leading us to be 15 minutes late since we couldn’t leave his Kindle sitting on a his desk overnight at school
- Little Miss left her homework at home, sitting on her desk
- Both kids were goofing around in their after school class and distracting the other participants
- Little Miss threw a tantrum over not understanding her math homework
- Mister Man didn’t clean up any of the LEGOS all over his floor, which I tripped over and stepped on repeatedly as I tried to ensure he was in his bed where he belonged at bedtime
- Mister Man flipped out over ever using his Thermos again because he insisted it smelled bad – after he’d left his lunch in it overnight and forgotten to have anyone wash it
And the list goes on. And on.
Ad adorably cute as the wee ones are, that doesn’t always save them. Granted, it gets them a big pass for a lot of things because they are so cute and sweet, but not for everything. There are definitely times when their perceived crimes outweigh their adorable-ness. And – shockingly – this was one of those times. Especially since they were as cranky as I was, which definitely isn’t cute or adorable.
I could literally feel my blood pressure rising, and my frustration mounting. And I knew that the more frustrated I got, the more the wee ones would tune me out. I sat on the couch in the family room, seething over the lack of ability to do the simple things that they know they are supposed to do when my eyes turned to the Mother’s Day gift that Little Miss had made for me in school.
The present came home in a brown paper bag that Little Miss had decorated. One side was covered in tiny cut out hearts that she had glued to the bag, along with the phrases “Happy Mother’s Day” and “I love you.” The reverse side had her best representation of a Northwestern Wildcat and the Northwestern N. It was purple simply because she knows it’s my favorite color, something she pointed out to me as she excitedly waited for me to open it.
Inside was a homemade flower pot she’d made for me, along with a scroll and a card. The scroll listed – in her best cursive – 10 things about momma. They reminded me of why it is that I am their mom in the first place. She is a good mother. She always watches movies with us. (I’m just grateful that she considers once every month or two to be “always.”) She’s very smart. She always helps with homework. She loves to play games. She always plays. Each one had evidence to back it up, something she proudly shared with me.
And then I remembered the card she made. It wasn’t just your typical, I love you and done. She had obviously spent a lot of time and effort on it, and I could see that there was so much on it that was love. So much where she appreciated what I do for her and remembered that we have fun together.
Happy Mother’s Day! Here is a poem about you.
O ver helpful
M ost fun of them all
Thank you for all you do for me. You are the best!
And then there were the pictures. Not only did I have multiple coupons for free hugs and free kisses, but she drew pictures of some of the favorite things she’s shared with me. She drew a picture of the time I took her and Mister Man to go see the LEGO Movie two nights in a row. She drew us having Movie Night with Mommy. She remembered me giving her the Kindle. And there was us riding the carousel at Disneyland on our recent vacation there. Plus, she had my husband and I snuggled up together in bed like we sometimes do on a weekend morning, where we can sit and chat and chill for a bit before the day starts.
I pulled out that card and looked at it, and I felt my blood pressure go down again. I was able to take a deep breath that was actually calming. And I remembered why I’m a mom and – more importantly – that tomorrow is another day where I get to do it all over again. So even though Little Miss made a mess of breakfast this morning, using my crepe pan to make scrambled eggs and leaving egg shells on the kitchen counter. Even though Mister Man came home with a sub-par math test for no reason other than a lack of focus. Even though the wee ones argued over who owned a dime that Mister Man had found but then left behind on Little Miss’s desk. Even though… they were once again cute and adorable, so long as I can remember to hold that card – and the emotion and love behind – it close to my heart.