a look • a demand • a request
…a sentence to serve
This drama is brought to you by a mother who believes that bed head, worn out leggings, old t’s and no makeup should be the new black! Heck, even an orange jumpsuit will pass in my house.
I am proud to say that I’m happily serving my time as a mom. I know that this lovely little messy moment in life goes by way too fast and through all the big tests and smallest of successes, I will remain diligent on my duties. I thoroughly love my children and I’ve easily embraced all the beauty that comes with motherhood, but I will quickly admit the difficulties as well. In fact, if I could use my “one phone call” right now, I would call nobody and sit in silence, complete silence. Actually, a solid dial tone sounds pretty soothing too.
Toddlers have a way with words (or lack there of) and a way with pouty lips, puppy dog eyes and ear piercing whines. This kind of emotional ammunition can push us moms to give in when we just don’t want to fight it, to bow down and obey our tiny masters just so we can finish our own food, get a little rest, take a deep breath or somewhat enjoy a sip of our delicious room temp coffee (quick tip: calling it delicious makes it taste just a little better). We fail, we give in and we ask for help. I’m told to trust my gut. My gut says, “I’m hungry and I just want to eat without a chunk of crayon hiding somewhere in my oatmeal or determined little fingers digging through my sandwich and confiscating any evidence of an appetizing meal (search and seizure style).” I’m working on standing my ground. Unfortunately, my ground can’t always hold my stance. I do my best to show my rambuncitous rulers that I got this and everything is under control… When they turn their backs, sometimes I feel my knees give way and I prepare myself for a mini mama tantrum. While on the ground and enjoying the release of my own emotions, I often find myself in a sticky crumb ridden land sprinkled with little shanks, disguised as toys, that stab my feet when I think I’m safe. I know who made this mess, I know who the smiling little smugglers are but we are not yet at a level of understanding that will keep them from littering my world with sticky food and sharp objects. After hours of cleaning what I thought I already cleaned… this land is still their land.
Our little ones have a power that can sometimes take over our world. However, it is indeed our job to keep our kids under control because their actions reflect on us, right? We strive to teach them patience, teach them manners and kindness, empathy and curiosity. We teach them to listen to us and to those around them, even though we may still be learning some of this ourselves. In the busy mind of a toddler, our overstimulating and confusing world gives them the need to make demands and requests of us and we do what we can to respond appropriately with patience, manners and kindness… We do what we can.
We give excuses to our friends, family and even strangers. When they hear our children whine, when they see our mini gorillas pounding their chests and demanding attention, when they see our children fight over the lack of room in the double cart or when they hear them begging for a toy or treat and we submit to their demands in order to avoid the horrific explosion that may follow. We are quick to try to explain the reason behind the crime scene and apologize to others. In our confident motherly tone of voice, we find believable and forgiving excuses. Or… we silently use our mother-like laser eyes to say “I know, I’m sorry but this is my life and your judgment is getting in the way.”
We persuade until gibberish falls out of our mouths. I recently found myself trying to persuade a very persistent two year old to keep her food in her mouth. She then smiled and slowly let her food drool out of her mouth, onto the floor, and of course her twin sister giggled and mocked her every move. My mom teaching heart raced and I quickly focused on correcting the obscenity while cleaning up the newly swept floor. Peering over the table to reprimand and teach, I received little grins and more messy mouths again filled with escaping food. My sweet little gals looked at me as if to say “good job mommy inmate, you’re serving your time very well and it’s hilarious… now see if you can pick up THIS food!” (giggle, giggle + satisfied smirk).
We seek to provide solutions for every situation… A hug for tears, a kiss for a bruise, a hand to help brush teeth or get dressed. But, as much as we want to be the solution, even in the very early years of their life we have to learn to back off. They need space to learn and grow as we watch from the edge of our seat waiting to be called to the front, to be released, waiting for the stamp of approval that says “you can now mother, but don’t smother.”
When the thick fog of this drama subsides and I can keep all the mess in my peripheral, I look down at my ankles and watch the shackles disappear.
I see two sweet noggins learning, seeking my approval, showing me confidence, climbing me, wanting me and loving me. Through their expressions of frustration and crocodile tears, it can be easy to forget how much they believe in us and how incredible this “mom” life is. Aside from feeling immensely thankful for the little humans that test us, it’s ok to admit that it’s hard. It’s ok to admit that you feel trapped at times and it is ok to have your own little tantrum now and then. Of course you’re not physically “behind bars” but your inmate status confines you to a state of mind and a place in life that will someday be a distant memory, a memory you will never forget. So, make the best of it while you proudly serve your time and give yourself a big break and a lot of credit.
Cheers to this lovely life and enjoy your room temp coffee!
