Patience is hard. This post is an attempt to recall the moments last week when I lost my mind with my children. I really thought I'd do some damage to something...but alas...I was able to control my temper - and take a short walk across the street to the mailbox.
I'm a full-time wife and mother who also works outside the home full time. After picking up my kids from school and daycare, I wanted to make a quick stop to pick up some items for dinner. I guess I first noticed the raging inside me after 2 time-outs for my 5-yr-old son on the bank-sponsored bench in the front of the grocery store. I mean, really! What should have taken 30 minutes turned out to be an hour - with several strangers looking on at how I was going to handle discipline with my children in public. I mean, I couldn't just holler at them and expect them to listen. Okay, I did expect them to listen when I hollered, let's be real! But, they didn't...and it just made me even more upset. Dare I say angry? What's up with the short temper? It was a nice day at work...just pretty normal. Just because my daughter had started out in the car with "What's for dinner?" And, no matter what I would say, she'd say a majority of the time..."Ew, I didn't want that!" Then she was egging on her brother, and being a little bossy sprocket! Just because mom was hungry after work and needed to pick up just a couple of things for dinner - as well as a few things for the rest of the week's menu. What!?! Did low blood sugar have anything to do with my mood? Are you kidding? Of course it did!
So, after several attempts to settle children into obedience, my son finally understood that I wasn't kidding, and that mom was rather ready to leave him there in the store. When summoned, he chose to come to my side and hug me, look up at my face, and tell me that I wasn't very nice. I told him I loved him, but that he wasn't very nice, either. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't very nice to him when I said "No, don't touch that!" as he wanted everything in sight that was within his reach and had "touch me" spelled out on it in a language only a 5-yr-old could understand. My husband called my cell phone during the craziness of the store episode, and was sorely set aback by my unwillingness to talk through stuff with him on the phone.
We made it through the checkout line, bagged the groceries, and he asked why he had to sit on the bench near the front of the store when he wasn't in time-out anymore. Seriously - the oldest one understands not to ask mom any questions when she's not happy. Just sit quietly - and ask questions later.
So...when we got into the car, big sister was good enough to help get him buckled up, and I loaded the 3 bags of veggies, tortillas, rice, salsa, and chips into the back of our SUV. Yeah, I know!! It took an hour to come away with 3 bags! Can you feel the frustration building? Yes, I said building. The feeling of anxiety and pressure like a steaming kettle just wouldn't go away. No matter how quiet they were in the car on the short drive to our home, and no matter how quickly they exited the car and carried groceries into the house without a sound, I was still so amazingly stressed! What was that about? No, not hormonal. Trust me.
I set down my purse, cell phone, car keys, and headed back outside to see a glorious pink and orange sunset just over the houses to the west. I felt the ground beneath my feet as I stormed down the driveway and across the icy puddle at the bottom. Afraid to slip on the ice in my heels, I stepped carefully over the icy patch, and watched as several cars passed by on this busy street this time of day. The smell of exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke from the last car was lifted by a very frigid bitter wind that bit my cheeks as I turned to look both ways. Crossing the street, I was grateful for a warm coat, gloves, and a mailbox full of ads and magazines. Also appeared a letter from the city that later would tell us that they are going to charge us assessments for the repair and construction that they will no doubt inconvenience us with this summer as they fix the road I just walked across. Nice. I needed that.
I headed back across the street - clicking my heels up the driveway to my door...paying no attention to the neighbors who walk their dogs on the sidewalk in front of my house. I sometimes nod or wave, and a smile and "hello" even comes on good days. But, today was not one of those. I entered the house - expecting to hear loud cries and WWIII beginning in the living room. I sent the oldest down to finish her homework, and the youngest to his room to play. I brought the youngest into the bathroom to wash our hands after being at the store where who knows what was lingering on the handles of the shopping cart, the bench, the food items, the car door handle, whatever! He looked up at me with such big brown eyes and said, "Mom, why do I have to play in my room?" Good question. So, I calmly explained to him that I wasn't happy with the behavior expressed at the store, and that I needed some time to unpack bags and start making dinner. He understood, and quietly played with the millions of toys to choose from in his small and simple bedroom.
I shut his door, turned on some quiet music, and began to unpack.
As I began chopping veggies and chicken for my stir-fry that night, my husband arrived home off the city bus from a long day at work. After the phone call to a stressed mommy was apparent, he was cautious coming home knowing that he may have to do some refereeing. But, wait...it was quiet..."What happened to the children?" he asked with all sincerity. "I killed them," I said plainly. (A long pause.) "How did you do that? Poison?" "No, I shot them." With a smirk and a whoa-nelly look, he continued carefully..."Which one did you kill first?" I answered thoughtfully..."The little one...I didn't want him to see his sister suffer." We smiled, and hugged, and upon hearing daddy's voice, our little monster came wandering out of his room with some space ship toy hanging from his tiny little hands. Guess who poured the wine? He's a very good man.
I finished cooking dinner, and we sat together at the table. All of us. And, it was relatively pleasant. Aside from the moment a familiar and sad song played from an otherwise comforting CD by a dear friend. It hit me. Memories of a friend who had passed 2 years ago. She loved American Idol, and this night was the first night of the season for voting. She even used to post a top Idol poll, and we'd take free change bets to see who could predict which guy and which gal would last the longest. I ran to my room and broke down in huge sobs...my chest heaving and my throat closing up. The tears were as big as water balloons on a summer day at the lake. And, my blanket and sheets on the bed were soaked in a matter of seconds. I cried like this when she died. I cried like this all the way through the funeral and reception. I cried like this when visiting her gravesite a month later for her birthday. I cried like this months after she was gone. But, it had been several months now since I had cried like this. I was really wrapped in a deep emotion that had been screaming to come to the surface. I had denied it too long, and now it was as present to me as the sensation of wine in my head.
That night was a tough night. My husband was a good consoler - even though seeing a woman in such a difficult place was hard for him to know what to do. My kids were well cared for, and hugged, and kissed, and teeth were brushed. I stayed put in my room. Wondering if my eyes would swell as big as grapefruit the next morning...which they did.
Each day after this, the little monsters continued to fight with each other. I continued to notice my reaction to them, and tried to find a way to love them in my stress. With the emotion of that day behind me, I was able to see more clearly each new step I could take. They continued to push my buttons the rest of the week...but each day as I walked to the mailbox, felt the cold air on my cheeks, and smelled the suburban streets, I felt alive like never before. I am walking to that mailbox still each day. I wonder what it will hold for me the next time I open it. I wonder how long the bitter cold air will last. I wonder how many times I'll need to escape just to be able to tolerate behavior of monster. I'm so grateful for them, really I am! I am really grateful for an understanding husband who is also a very good father.
Today, the little monster was less of a monster. He sat on my lap as we watched the news tonight. Not very long...but for a few moments -and a hug that felt like forever - I forgot he was a monster. I could be present, and calm, and so could he. And, my girl chose to cuddle a little too. Although, not at the same time as her brother. Dinner was good tonight. I hope it stays this way a few days longer. Just long enough to give me strength to be present to them in their craziness once again.
