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