I ask you to take this short journey with me this evening to the crazy side of life. If for no other reason, I am writing tonight to help myself through a chaotic chapter in my little short story. Maybe the future me will read this one day and wish I was back to this exact moment in time. Maybe the future me will relish in the memories and cherish them in the true belief that it was all good rather than crazy, cute rather than terror and maybe I'll just giggle. For now, take a walk with me to the dark side.
I know how fast time flies by and I don't want to miss these days later on because I am so stressed out. But when my Father hands me a book about overly sensitive children, I have to wonder..."Is it me? Is it what they are exposed to? Is it in their genes?" Naaaah, my children are not overly sensitive at all. Just because Charlie freaked out in the middle of a long walk because his Toy Story cowboy boots got wet and would not walk another step until someone wiped them dry. Just because Kyle had a panic attack this morning because I set out a shirt that actually had buttons on it! I don't know what I was thinking! I mean, we are talking BUTTONS! Those things are lethal! The way they just look at you like little beatty eyes! It's creepy just knowing they are there! I was actually sewing my son's shirt together this morning to overlap the buttons so he couldn't see them. Maybe that is me going too far. But he wore the shirt! Overly sensitive? Not a chance. (I'm reading the book)
I have a hard time distinguishing between fighting a losing battle and fighting a battle worth winning no matter what. I really hate the phrase "pick your battles." That truly means something different to everyone. "You are not excused from the table until everyone is finished eating." "You are not excused from the table until YOU are finished eating." These are rules either way, but I have been told many different versions by friends, Doctors and family members. "Don't fight with them about food, it's not worth it. They won't starve." "Let them leave the table, then you will get to have an adult conversation and they can go play." "Setting rules and boundaries are important. Don't give in or you are being inconsistent and they will confuse the message."
Speaking of mixed messages, my children love to play me like a fine tuned instrument. On a walk the other day, Charlie kept stepping in my path with his hands up for me to hold him. He cried and fell to the ground a few times. I figured "Pick your battles. Just hold him for a little while. He's little, it's a long walk." I would alternate. Hold, walk. Hold, walk. Kyle complained of pure and utter thirst. You would think he wouldn't be so thirsty with the amount of WHINE he was spilling out! Over and over, we heard about the thirsty child. We got to the beach and played for a bit. I ran back to get the car to avoid the horrific-ness of the long walk back. Charlie walks by the car and states very confidently "I don't want to ride in the car. I'm walking." I chuckled and plopped him into his car seat. I raced back to the house in order to get my dehydrated other son a drink. As I handed him a cup of water, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes like I had something smeared all over my face, paused and said "What? I'm not thirsty." and ran off to play.
I walk around most days a zombie due to being up most nights with Charlie as he wakes up at least four to five times throughout the night complaining of different ailments; a bad dream, the dark, his sock is crooked, he has to pee, he can't find Ariel, he thought I called him (& who knows maybe I did). It takes a while for him to settle back down sometimes. And me, well...it takes me a good half hour each time to fall back to sleep. By the time I do, you know who is back at my bed side purposely making a slight little hiccup of a noise so I know he is there. I squint open my eyes to see his little smirk and crinkled face like "I know I'm not supposed to be up, but here I am again....staring at you....."
Don't get me wrong, I do cherish and love my boys more than life itself. I would walk over hot coals for them in an instant! I just wish I knew how to handle the chaos a little better is all. I wish I knew how to be a better Mom. I guess I just keep playing with them, disciplining the only way I know how and plugging along with each day that goes by and treasuring those moments when my children are singing "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me" and "I got a feeling...tonight's gonna be a good night" at the top of their lungs in the middle of a crowded Stew Leonard's. I stare down the on-lookers, smile and start singing along with my boys. It's those moments I put in my pocket and pull out when I need to smile. The moments when I just don't think I can take anymore of the craziness and misbehaving, out pops a warm, heart-felt "I love you Mommy" from Charlie followed by a big hug and kiss. Kyle then tells me "Mommy, I just love you so much. I am going to love you forever, even when I'm old." Those moments..... stay in my heart.
Thanks for keeping me company tonight in this little path of thoughts I took. Maybe it wasn't so dark after all and it did what I had hoped it would. It made me stop for a few minutes and see the JOY of parenthood...no matter what.
