A Moment in Motherhood…


My two-year-old is throwing a tantrum, the screeching and crying is grating. I have no idea what it is about…I don’t think she knows either at this point. My four-year-old is riding the loudest riding toy ever in circles around the dining room table, I have given up asking him to stop, he’s not listening. I was supposed to have this morning to get my to-dos done, they were supposed to be in school…but then the school called to tell me they thought my daughter had pink eye, so back I went and although it was a false alarm, here we are at home.

I want to walk out the door, I want to run away. It’s been one thing after the other with the kids this past week (Impetigo, colds, a visit to the ER after a tumble down the steps, bed wetting, bad dreams, etc.) and nothing has gone according to plan. I am about to break.

I can feel it throughout my whole body – this moment alone seems so small – but it’s all the moments combined.

I can’t break. I can’t leave. I don’t want to leave them, they are my everything, but I just need a moment. One moment. I need to breathe.

I step outside and close the front door. My kids immediately stop what they are doing and come to the door. I can hear my daughter crying on the other side and my son asking what I’m doing. This isn’t the moment I needed.

I come back inside. My son is asking for the iPad, my daughter is crying again – she wants a sandwich “right now”. I feel like I can’t catch my breath, it’s hard to pull air in each time. I make the sandwich and re-direct my son away from wanting the iPad. My heart is still pounding. I still need that moment.

I look at the Christmas boxes stacked on my bonus son’s bed. I need to move them, but where? This was where I moved them to get them out of the way. After two months of him not being here (yes, we are supposed to have him every other weekend, but that’s a whole other discussion) he is finally coming this weekend. I’m not prepared. I am happy he’s coming, his siblings are overly excited, but this is why there is a schedule so we can plan and prepare. The overwhelm washes over me, I feel like I’m drowning. I have no idea where to begin and now my son is asking for lunch.

I make macaroni and cheese. My stomach is grumbling and I realize it’s just past noon and I haven’t eaten today. It will have to wait though, I need to clean up their lunch once they are done and get them down for naps. I hope today is a nap day for my four-year-old, he’s in the process of dropping his nap and “quiet time” hasn’t really been working out, so I pray silently in my head that today is one of the days where he naps for at least an hour. I still need that moment.

They are both eating now and move closer to each other. They are the closest friends. I turn on Disney Jr. – Mickey’s Once Upon a Christmas is playing. They excitedly point and talk about Mickey while finishing lunch. Something inside of me lightens. I take a few bites of leftover mac and sit down with them – my son gets up, walks to my side gives me a hug and says “I love you mama”.  Then he takes his bowl into the kitchen.

I breathe.

My daughter quietly finishes her lunch, then comes to sit next to me. She snuggles up against me and says “I’m sorry mama”.

I breathe.

They both curl up next to me. I tell them when the show is over we need to go upstairs. I brace for the argument…but they both simply nod and snuggle closer.

Everything melts away, I can breathe easily now, this is the moment I needed.

“I poop mama.”

…and the moment has passed.