Saturday. I am at home alone with my son for the day, for the first time in weeks. Months? A long time. For the first time since the day that precipitated this and this.
This is significant. How the day turns out matters – not just because I don’t want to have a bad day. It’s so much bigger than that.
***
We had friends over to play this morning – a girl Connor’s age who he’s known since he was weeks old. She is quiet and focused. He, generally, is not. Today he was buzzing, like a balloon you’ve blown up but not tied off so that when you let it go it flies everywhere, impossible to catch and making that pppbbbbttttpppphhhh noise as it releases all the energy inside.
A small part of me thought, really, Universe? Today? You couldn’t ease me back in?
It was not to be.
He only napped for 45 minutes, then got up and commenced whining and falling over on the floor.
I took him out of the house, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to manage at home all afternoon with him like that. It was a risk. I’ve done it before on rough days and had it blow up, quite spectacularly, in my face.
He wasn’t a whole lot better out in public but bribes for toddlers work wonders, though not magic. We still had meltdowns, throwing things, attempts to break things and running away in a store where I had to leave my wallet at the counter to chase him down.
But you know what? We made it. I talked. I redirected. I negotiated. I used positive reinforcement and when that didn’t work I took his new truck away. He got the message and we got home without anyone getting an arm ripped off.
I did it. And what I did today will help me do so much more.
***
Show me something I’ve never seen before; a treasured photograph of your grandparents or a handkerchief your father wore in his lapel.
Take me somewhere I’ve never been; a place where the land meets the sea, the breeze is cool and your mind calms.
Sing me the same soothing lullaby night after night; the one that helps ease my fears and dream vividly.
Let me make mistakes and learn as I go, no matter how difficult it may be for you to witness.
Guide me through life as though you were my tour guide, exposing me to places near and far but always emphasizing the importance of home.
Show me something I’ve never seen before, mom.
***
As a mother, my job is to take care of my son. To feed him. To comfort him. To love him.
But my job is also to teach him about the world and to introduce him to new things and new experiences. To help him develop the skills to interact appropriately with others. To teach him patience and respect and kindness.
My job is to help him make sense of the world so he can grow up to be the sort of person who helps the world make sense.
In the past I’ve had trouble doing that. At times it’s taken every ounce of energy I have. Some days I’ve felt like I’m faking it.
I’m going to have bad days. We all are. But for me there’s a difference between a normal bad day and a day where I drown in motherhood and forget that every parent has a bad day now and then and it’s not just me and it’s not because I can’t do it.
Yesterday was not a bad day. It was frustrating at times and tiring, apparently, because I lay down for a few minutes at 5:00 and slept, not hearing anything including my husband telling me dinner was ready, until 7.
Yesterday was a good day. And as I sat in the evening quiet, I read a really beautiful post by Tonya from Letters for Lucas. The italicized section above is excerpts from that post and Tonya kindly agreed to let me use them. I encourage you to go and read the whole thing. I guarantee it will inspire you. It inspired me, because it sums up exactly why finding my ability to be a mother matters.
