Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Why children are awesome, even (or especially) on bad days

Snuggling with Andrew, I said: "Today has been a rough day, hasn't it?"

Andrew, giving me a huge hug:  "I accept your apology."

He wasn't being flippant.  He'd "heard" the apology, even though I didn't say it.

A very-bright spot to my crabby day was that (A) he instinctively knew I was sorry... (B) understood it was my problem and not his...and (C) was still willing to accept my (unspoken) apology.

Crabby mommies aren't very fun, apparently

The more I need space, the more my children need to be right.in.my.space the entire day.

An unfortunate reality.

I understand it on a psychological level.  They want to connect with their mom, and their mom is trying to run away from them (sorta figuratively, sorta literally).

"I flee who chases me, and chase who flees me."  True in love and in parenting, apparently.  Thank you, Ovid, for that annoyingly true truth.

My plan for the day:  Pass out breakfast, turn on TV, and hide in my room most of the day with a book and my own remote.  Find a Law and Order marathon -- isn't there always at least one?

My children's plan for the day:  Have the neediest, clingiest, most owie-getting, hitting-each-other, crying-est, whiniest, and HUNGRIEST day of their lives.

There are two doors into this bedroom, and the minute I'd quietly hide in here and shut the door....*someone* (varied about whom) would be knocking on one of them.

"What are some things you can do independently?" I ask, in my fake-sweet, burned-out mama voice.

They stare at me blankly.

It's a rainy day, and normally puddles are better than chocolate to their little mess-loving souls.  Today, not one child wanted to run around outdoors.

The low point?  When I begged my children to just leave.me.alone for 10 minutes, and my sweet-souled 3-year-old daughter walked away crying and saying: "I just....wanted...TWO...snuggles!"

Low. Point.

For the record, I did scoop her up and snuggle her.  Apologized for being the Worst Mother In The World.  And then mentally counted the seconds until she'd emotionally recover and go play independently.

I did have to get out of my froggy pajamas to do an emergency RedBox run -- and spent $3 on 3 movies that they'd never seen.  And right now, $1 of those RedBoxes is playing in the living room, and my children are all in here asking me for a 4th lunch of the day.

Can you sense my burnout?

I sent my husband a text and asked him for 2 minutes of his time for me to bitch about my day via phone.  And to his credit, he actually DID call me in response.

I love that man.

And truth be told, I really-really-really-really-really love these crazy monkeys who are wreaking havoc on my ability to do absolutely nothing today.

I just want to not see any of them for the next 24-48 hours.

I hope, from the deepest place of my soul, that one completely rotten mothering day won't completely derail all the years of investment we've made in their lives.  Because if one day could, it might be this one. :)