We all have a bad day. We all do (even those perky people!) have bad days. I think it is what we take from the end of the day that matters. What we learn and think about allowing the day to count for good. I always say, "It takes both rain and sunshine to make a rainbow." I am sure you will grow tired of this saying. So, in this it takes both the good and the bad to create life. All of these moments stack up to the colors of this beautiful life. What hurts makes us stronger- it is true. Believe this.
Today, I am having a bad, bad day. I guess it isn't so much bad as it is sad. And what I do with the sadness is up to me. I cannot leave my happiness up to any one thing or any one person. It is mine to find and to own. I write this because I expect you two to find your happiness, too. It won’t find you. Anyway, when I am sad I read. I like to find some inspiration to perk me up and bring me back to, well your fun loving Mom!
So, today I found: The Fork. In reading this tiny story it reminds me of the simple things that bring meaning, joy, enthusiasm and comfort to life. It reminds me to wait for the sunshine as it always follows the rain… I think the sun is around the bend; and I need to find my patience.
The Fork
There was a woman who had been diagnosed with cancer and had been given 3 months to live. Her Dr. told her to start making preparations to die (something we all should be doing all of the time.) So she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.
She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what she wanted to be wearing. The woman also told her pastor that she wanted to be buried with her favorite bible.
Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her. "There's one more thing." She said excitedly. "What's that?" came the pastor's reply. "This is very important." The woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the woman not knowing quite what to say. "That shocks you doesn't it?" The woman asked. "Well to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.
The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and functions where food was involved (and let's be honest, food is an important part of any church event; spiritual or otherwise); my favorite part was when whoever was clearing away the dishes of the main course would lean over and say 'you can keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming. When they told me to keep my fork, I knew that something great was about to be given to me. It wasn't Jell-O or pudding. It was cake or pie. Something with substance. So I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Something better is coming so keep your fork too.'"
The pastor's eyes were welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She KNEW that something better was coming.
At the funeral people were walking by the woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and her favorite bible and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over the pastor heard the question "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled. During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her.
The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.
So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you, oh so gently that there is something better coming.
Keep your fork. The best is yet to come.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Pledge
Lately, my head has been in a cloud of hard adult topics. I promise to do my best in not weighing you down with affairs of adult matter. What happens between your father and I is our business. What personal discussions and discipline occurs with one of you doesn’t include the other. When finances are tight you will not know. When tension is thick you will not feel it. What may come about with someone in our circle will not be shared with your young ears. You will be children. I make this promise to you, today.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will walk the course of being innocent and free of the adult world and worry. I see far too many who allow their children to be privy to matters that are of adult nature. I anticipate a time you ask to hear a story or a detail. I will not tell you. My responsibility is to be your parent. I am not your friend. I hope to be someone you confide in, but this isn’t one of reciprocation. As you become men we can renegotiate our relationship, but I hold fast to this pledge until this time.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will have your needs met. Your clothing will always be clean, current and fit. You will have shoes for every season. You will be clean. There will be food aplenty to keep your diet balanced as we continue to eat as a family. You will be nourished. There will be plenty of exercise for your bodies, minds and spirit. It is my pleasure to ensure you are given a warm home, clothing and food. You will always have a place of comfort regardless of what may or may not have happened in your day.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will have opportunity and experience. It is important that your education begin the moment it can at the Pre-K level not for numbers, colors and singing rhymes, but for socialization. These first years of schooling are imperative for building a foundation that too many overlook. You will learn sharing, communication, contribution, listening and richer skills overall that our walls cannot teach you. It is human nature to be a different creature outside the walls of home; and in this the reality of parents accepting behavior as ‘normal’ which by any other standard are regarded as unacceptable due to being ‘immune’. And truly, being armed with a proper and higher level education (college/graduate) the world really is a different place.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will come first. You will go to parks, recreation, activities and vacation. I understand that I do not know the financial conditions of our future. I do know how to work a budget to ensure life has meaning and time to breathe. I do know a world of creativity vs purse strings. You deserve to have days of play and are entitled (a word I don’t use often!) to wonderment. I am to show you as much of the world as I am able, perhaps not by boat, plane and automobile, but by libraries, festivals, trips and the like. Together, we can very easily broaden your mind and strengthen your belief system.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will have boundaries and responsibilities appropriate for your state of being. Just as children crave attention and love they yearn to know the word no and limits. To love you is not to give you the world, but to give you an understanding of right and wrong. I will be fair and say now that you two may not share the same privileges all of the time or at the same milestone age. It will be earned upon your individual personalities and what you are capable of being responsible for. My responsibility reaches further than the two of you. As a parent I have a civic duty to do my best in raising children who are socially aware and good citizens. I have an expectation of chivalry, kindness and manners expected of you in and out of my company. I practice this now and it will continue to mature over time.
I pledge to you that you will be children. We will play. We will dance in the rain. We will make mud pies in the fall and seek butterflies in the spring. We will paint with our toes while using our hands to hold us up. We will have pajama days and dress up game nights. We will giggle at inappropriate noises and give loud giggles due to love mites in the library. We will have pillow derbies down the hall and popcorn for dinner. We will eat popsicles for breakfast and play in sprinklers at the park while wearing all of our clothing. We will laugh every day. I promise to play, too. It keeps life in perspective.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will be boys who make an impact. I give you permission to mold, guide and teach me. You will learn things I have never known or over time I have forgotten. Children are teachers and have perception that we as adults forget. You will feel things I have forgot for reasons I fail to recall. Inspire me to do better by watching your hearts grow. The three of us are on this journey together. My responsibility is to remember I must try to fit your needs (don’t confuse this with your wants!). I will ask you to share your feelings just as I will share mine. And like any other relationship this one will take work.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will be loved. You will be cared for. You will be wanted. You will be snuggled. You will be enjoyed. You are my children and before having you I pledged a great many things, but today I make a pledge I know I can and one that I will keep.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will walk the course of being innocent and free of the adult world and worry. I see far too many who allow their children to be privy to matters that are of adult nature. I anticipate a time you ask to hear a story or a detail. I will not tell you. My responsibility is to be your parent. I am not your friend. I hope to be someone you confide in, but this isn’t one of reciprocation. As you become men we can renegotiate our relationship, but I hold fast to this pledge until this time.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will have your needs met. Your clothing will always be clean, current and fit. You will have shoes for every season. You will be clean. There will be food aplenty to keep your diet balanced as we continue to eat as a family. You will be nourished. There will be plenty of exercise for your bodies, minds and spirit. It is my pleasure to ensure you are given a warm home, clothing and food. You will always have a place of comfort regardless of what may or may not have happened in your day.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will have opportunity and experience. It is important that your education begin the moment it can at the Pre-K level not for numbers, colors and singing rhymes, but for socialization. These first years of schooling are imperative for building a foundation that too many overlook. You will learn sharing, communication, contribution, listening and richer skills overall that our walls cannot teach you. It is human nature to be a different creature outside the walls of home; and in this the reality of parents accepting behavior as ‘normal’ which by any other standard are regarded as unacceptable due to being ‘immune’. And truly, being armed with a proper and higher level education (college/graduate) the world really is a different place.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will come first. You will go to parks, recreation, activities and vacation. I understand that I do not know the financial conditions of our future. I do know how to work a budget to ensure life has meaning and time to breathe. I do know a world of creativity vs purse strings. You deserve to have days of play and are entitled (a word I don’t use often!) to wonderment. I am to show you as much of the world as I am able, perhaps not by boat, plane and automobile, but by libraries, festivals, trips and the like. Together, we can very easily broaden your mind and strengthen your belief system.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will have boundaries and responsibilities appropriate for your state of being. Just as children crave attention and love they yearn to know the word no and limits. To love you is not to give you the world, but to give you an understanding of right and wrong. I will be fair and say now that you two may not share the same privileges all of the time or at the same milestone age. It will be earned upon your individual personalities and what you are capable of being responsible for. My responsibility reaches further than the two of you. As a parent I have a civic duty to do my best in raising children who are socially aware and good citizens. I have an expectation of chivalry, kindness and manners expected of you in and out of my company. I practice this now and it will continue to mature over time.
I pledge to you that you will be children. We will play. We will dance in the rain. We will make mud pies in the fall and seek butterflies in the spring. We will paint with our toes while using our hands to hold us up. We will have pajama days and dress up game nights. We will giggle at inappropriate noises and give loud giggles due to love mites in the library. We will have pillow derbies down the hall and popcorn for dinner. We will eat popsicles for breakfast and play in sprinklers at the park while wearing all of our clothing. We will laugh every day. I promise to play, too. It keeps life in perspective.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will be boys who make an impact. I give you permission to mold, guide and teach me. You will learn things I have never known or over time I have forgotten. Children are teachers and have perception that we as adults forget. You will feel things I have forgot for reasons I fail to recall. Inspire me to do better by watching your hearts grow. The three of us are on this journey together. My responsibility is to remember I must try to fit your needs (don’t confuse this with your wants!). I will ask you to share your feelings just as I will share mine. And like any other relationship this one will take work.
I pledge to you that you will be children. You will be loved. You will be cared for. You will be wanted. You will be snuggled. You will be enjoyed. You are my children and before having you I pledged a great many things, but today I make a pledge I know I can and one that I will keep.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
One Week At A Time
What a week in the Rardin house. I cannot believe the milestones and the strides you two are making. It is during these phases of rapid development I count my blessings (three times over) for our family is fortunate enough to have the choice for me to stay home. I am thankful we made the choice that we did. It has allowed us to share in these special markers of your young lives. So, this week here is what appeared on the lineup:
Kaden no longer uses a pacifier
Ashton waves good-bye
Kaden poos in the toilet three days in a row
Ashton walks scooting anything across the floor
Kaden converts crib into his big boy bed
Kaden is speaking in sentences
These past seven days give an entire new meaning to “living one day at a time.” I feel as though several days are coming at me all at once. So, I am choosing to live one week at a time, lately! These stages are coming like bullets zipping and zooming. I am trying not to take it in the heart. I know these moments come with a great deal of pride for each of you. To be truthful each gives me great pride for you. I am excited to know you are on track and excited for what is around the bend! I breathe deeps as it seems like most things since meeting your Dad this too will go by in lightning speed. This is the story of our lives!
Kaden no longer uses a pacifier
Ashton waves good-bye
Kaden poos in the toilet three days in a row
Ashton walks scooting anything across the floor
Kaden converts crib into his big boy bed
Kaden is speaking in sentences
These past seven days give an entire new meaning to “living one day at a time.” I feel as though several days are coming at me all at once. So, I am choosing to live one week at a time, lately! These stages are coming like bullets zipping and zooming. I am trying not to take it in the heart. I know these moments come with a great deal of pride for each of you. To be truthful each gives me great pride for you. I am excited to know you are on track and excited for what is around the bend! I breathe deeps as it seems like most things since meeting your Dad this too will go by in lightning speed. This is the story of our lives!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Pee-Wee's Secret Word: Potty Twain
I feel like Pee-wee Herman in ‘Pee-wee’s Playhouse’ constantly having a word of the day for Kaden. This show aired when I was a little girl. Conky, a flashy purple robot, gave the secret word to Pee-wee. When the word was said the kids or characters on the show would scream. Really thrilling, I know. Anyway, the point is to learn a new word and its definition. The differences between Pee-wee and myself (obviously, we can omit all the illegal hub-bub!) are a) our household word it is not a secret b)this time it is a phrase and c) we will repeat it until further notice. However, when it is said, we do get excited and scream with absolute delight. Okay, really it isn’t exactly like Pee-wee’s show, but humor me for the sake of conversation.
The phrase of the time: Potty Train (insert scream, here!)
We have started talking about the action. And now that Kaden is talking in sentences he is repeating the excitement, “Potty twain!”
After a diaper change he gets up and says, “Potty twain, Mama!” And this is said with glee, not question. I have to be the big letdown, the hammer breaking the pee-pee bubble telling him he had a diaper change not a potty train. I continue to explain that potty train (insert scream!) is sitting on the potty and going pee-pee in there not in a diaper. He will look at me with a ponderous look saying, “Oh!” and off he will skedaddle.
Later you will say, “Potty twain” to me. I will go into how exciting it is as you will wear Yo Gaba Gaba and Elmo underwear every day. You will earn treats and surprises when you potty train (insert scream!). What do you do? You go in and grab a pair of “Gaba Gaba” underware and start putting them on OVER your pants and ask for a “tweet”. How can I resist? You get a handful of chocolate chips.
It looks like Mom could use some work on the word of potty train (insert scream!), too.
However, I do know potty training is not you yelling, “Potty twaaaaaain! Potty twain. Potty twain, Mama” after your nap to get me in there. I enter your room. There you are, once again, stark naked standing over and pointing to your diaper as you smile saying, “Potty twain! Poop!”
Okay, so it is even more clear you need more work on the definition of potty train, before I scream.
The phrase of the time: Potty Train (insert scream, here!)
We have started talking about the action. And now that Kaden is talking in sentences he is repeating the excitement, “Potty twain!”
After a diaper change he gets up and says, “Potty twain, Mama!” And this is said with glee, not question. I have to be the big letdown, the hammer breaking the pee-pee bubble telling him he had a diaper change not a potty train. I continue to explain that potty train (insert scream!) is sitting on the potty and going pee-pee in there not in a diaper. He will look at me with a ponderous look saying, “Oh!” and off he will skedaddle.
Later you will say, “Potty twain” to me. I will go into how exciting it is as you will wear Yo Gaba Gaba and Elmo underwear every day. You will earn treats and surprises when you potty train (insert scream!). What do you do? You go in and grab a pair of “Gaba Gaba” underware and start putting them on OVER your pants and ask for a “tweet”. How can I resist? You get a handful of chocolate chips.
It looks like Mom could use some work on the word of potty train (insert scream!), too.
However, I do know potty training is not you yelling, “Potty twaaaaaain! Potty twain. Potty twain, Mama” after your nap to get me in there. I enter your room. There you are, once again, stark naked standing over and pointing to your diaper as you smile saying, “Potty twain! Poop!”
Okay, so it is even more clear you need more work on the definition of potty train, before I scream.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Baby is Leaving the Building
At shy of 11 months Ashton, you are taking off. You are zipping and zooming pushing anything with or without wheels to get you across a room. I am again reminded how different you and your brother are. He was and is an observer. You are our daredevil, the go-getter. You want what you want and it usually means: now. Kaden took until he was a year old to get the courage to do this action. I have been denying it to you in fear of my baby leaving.
Daddy and I saw you take your first steps as you held onto a little red motorcycle. You walked along side it just as any rider does. You did so with confidence. Dad grabbed my attention to watch the action. I quickly walked over to you to make sure you didn’t fall. Although, Dad jokes it was to knock you down. He knows this Mama isn’t ready for you to be a walking boy.
A few days later, you grabbed onto a stand and play table pushing it back and forth across the room. You did so effortlessly. You were laughing and almost bouncing as you did it to the beat of the music. Proud Dad started recording the pitter pat of feet. I turned my back and started bawling. I couldn’t control the tears. It was bitter sweet.
I want you to excel. I want you to reach for new horizons. I want you to grow and challenge yourself. I want this for both of you, boys. This being said, can you do all these great wonderful things at the schedule of my comfort ability? This Mom needs a break. I have been in a baby whirlwind and now that things are finally balanced I want to breathe in these baby moments. I don’t want you to be little forever. Believe it or not, I do have plans of my own one day. What I do want is to savor this special time. We were expecting you, so I couldn’t wait for Kaden to walk. I was rush- rush-rush about it. I wanted and needed to fast forward to ensure he was walking by your birth. Now, I want to hit pause for a moment and then slow things down.
I know, soon enough you will be leaving the building. I hear all too often how fast the time goes. I believe it. I shake my head imagining how fast these years will go. Can you give your Mom a break? Can you make these last few weeks leading up to your birthday pure babydum? At day 366, you have my blessing to find your balance and walk into your world… But for now, for these weeks I need this. I need my baby to be a baby. I need you to crawl and yank on my pant leg for a bottle not walk around the furniture to grab a juice cup. I ask a lot. I know.
Okay, I am the Mom. Let me be honest and of course there is no guilt intended, but you DO still wear 6-9 month clothing. This IS infant wear. Let us face it- infants are not supposed to walk. Sorry, baby. Plus, they (whoever ‘they’ are) say, the longer you take the walk the better… I don’t know why this is, but it is. Heed the advice. Please.
**I just realized these toys making you magically walk were given to you by the Church’s for Christmas… I may have to inquire to Grandma.
Daddy and I saw you take your first steps as you held onto a little red motorcycle. You walked along side it just as any rider does. You did so with confidence. Dad grabbed my attention to watch the action. I quickly walked over to you to make sure you didn’t fall. Although, Dad jokes it was to knock you down. He knows this Mama isn’t ready for you to be a walking boy.
A few days later, you grabbed onto a stand and play table pushing it back and forth across the room. You did so effortlessly. You were laughing and almost bouncing as you did it to the beat of the music. Proud Dad started recording the pitter pat of feet. I turned my back and started bawling. I couldn’t control the tears. It was bitter sweet.
I want you to excel. I want you to reach for new horizons. I want you to grow and challenge yourself. I want this for both of you, boys. This being said, can you do all these great wonderful things at the schedule of my comfort ability? This Mom needs a break. I have been in a baby whirlwind and now that things are finally balanced I want to breathe in these baby moments. I don’t want you to be little forever. Believe it or not, I do have plans of my own one day. What I do want is to savor this special time. We were expecting you, so I couldn’t wait for Kaden to walk. I was rush- rush-rush about it. I wanted and needed to fast forward to ensure he was walking by your birth. Now, I want to hit pause for a moment and then slow things down.
I know, soon enough you will be leaving the building. I hear all too often how fast the time goes. I believe it. I shake my head imagining how fast these years will go. Can you give your Mom a break? Can you make these last few weeks leading up to your birthday pure babydum? At day 366, you have my blessing to find your balance and walk into your world… But for now, for these weeks I need this. I need my baby to be a baby. I need you to crawl and yank on my pant leg for a bottle not walk around the furniture to grab a juice cup. I ask a lot. I know.
Okay, I am the Mom. Let me be honest and of course there is no guilt intended, but you DO still wear 6-9 month clothing. This IS infant wear. Let us face it- infants are not supposed to walk. Sorry, baby. Plus, they (whoever ‘they’ are) say, the longer you take the walk the better… I don’t know why this is, but it is. Heed the advice. Please.
**I just realized these toys making you magically walk were given to you by the Church’s for Christmas… I may have to inquire to Grandma.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Doing Fine
I was on the phone. I felt brave. I sucked it up. It took all of me, but I went into the bedroom and grabbed all four sticking each carefully in my robes pocket. I quickly moved on my tiptoes through the back of the hallway into the kitchen. I needed to be as quiet as a hunter, yet as quick as a gazelle. I didn’t want to be heard and I surely didn’t want to be seen. Let’s face it- I was on a covert mission.
I basically slinked into the kitchen. I finally heard over the beat of my own heart and it was Barney counting in the background. I knew the boys were content in the living room. Who wouldn’t be with a purple dinosaur singing at you? I place my left hand carefully on the counter above the drawer. I place my right hand on the cold drawer pull. I feel my face getting tight with anxiety as I am bearing down on my teeth. With great caution I pull out the drawer and reach to the back. I feel around. Bingo. I found the scissors.
I proped the phone between my ear and shoulder. I reach into my pocket. I pull each one out one-by-one. I meticulously lay each one out on the counter in a precise row spaced evenly. I pick up the handle and hold it close to my body. I quickly grab the scissors and it meets the silicone. The sound is sharp. It is tough as if I am cutting through skin. I leave a clean slice. It was amazing how quickly I worked my way to the very last one. As I finish the last snip I dropped it, slid the scissors to the back of the counter and jumped back.
I did this without giving it any thought. It was almost liberating. And then I felt sick. I was going to puke. A rush of guilt floods over me. Holy shit; I cannot leave! Adam’s truck is broken and I have no car. I can’t fix what is done.
I slit every pacifier in our house.
GG was on the line. "Mom, WE just cut Kaden's pacifiers..."
Naptime is in 40 minutes and the remorse is becoming more than I can bare. I have been talking about doing this for over a year. I kept thinking it wasn’t time. We were having a baby. We were busy all summer. We were buying a house. It was the holidays. Etc Etc. I didn’t realize it boils down to when the parents are ready- not necessarily the child.
I was NOT ready.
I ran through the dining room and down the hall. I swung open his bedroom door made my way quickly to his bed throwing the four pacifiers onto his pillow. I ran out as though I had never been in there.
Nap time came. I picked Kaden up off the couch. He snuggled into my neck as I carried him into his bedroom. I put on music and laid him down. I wanted to cry. He grabbed my face and gave me a kiss, “lou lou, Mama.” I felt my throat cramp as he reached for the first “fyefye”. “I love you, too.” I whimpered as he put it in his mouth. He took it out and looked at it. He put back in. He pulled it out. He threw it. He reached for another one. I wanted to yell, “Don’t! Okay, it was me! I did it! I cut each one and I am SO sorry. I suck. You have the worst Mom in all of the land.” I didn’t say a word. I was frozen.
The second one went into his mouth. He yanked it out with absolute irritation. It was at this time now this chicken of a mom bolted for the door. I knew what was coming…
He screams like he was experiencing bodily harm, “Mama…Mama…fyefye!” This continues. After a while he tries a different approach. I hear in a confused and loving voice, “KK fyefye, pease, Mama.” I put my ear against his door and hear him catching his breath between each cry.
If I had a car I’d of swooped him up, loaded up Ashton and off to Toys-R-Us we had gone. I would have stocked up on the Avents. But, I didn’t. I just stood there with my heartbreaking.
His pleas ruined me. My heart never hurt for him more. I knew this first nap was going to be difficult, but I didn’t realize it was going to challenge my emotions. He screamed and cried. I allowed him to comfort himself and fall asleep. I wanted to go in and rub his back and hold his hand, but I couldn’t. I had to ride the course and let Kaden find his comfort. I sat in the living room and cried.
He took an abnormally long nap. I too take long sleeps after emotional excursions. When he woke he cried out to me. I came in and he rushed into my arms. I needed this more than he. I wanted his comfort just as he wanted mine. I am the person who sneakily trespassed, smuggled goods and damaged his personal items (no wonder teens want locks on their doors!) and I was to give him security? I took it… I held onto him so tight and covered him in kissed until laughter found us both.
The truth is I am ready as is Kaden. We are on day four and ya know what? We are doing fine.
I basically slinked into the kitchen. I finally heard over the beat of my own heart and it was Barney counting in the background. I knew the boys were content in the living room. Who wouldn’t be with a purple dinosaur singing at you? I place my left hand carefully on the counter above the drawer. I place my right hand on the cold drawer pull. I feel my face getting tight with anxiety as I am bearing down on my teeth. With great caution I pull out the drawer and reach to the back. I feel around. Bingo. I found the scissors.
I proped the phone between my ear and shoulder. I reach into my pocket. I pull each one out one-by-one. I meticulously lay each one out on the counter in a precise row spaced evenly. I pick up the handle and hold it close to my body. I quickly grab the scissors and it meets the silicone. The sound is sharp. It is tough as if I am cutting through skin. I leave a clean slice. It was amazing how quickly I worked my way to the very last one. As I finish the last snip I dropped it, slid the scissors to the back of the counter and jumped back.
I did this without giving it any thought. It was almost liberating. And then I felt sick. I was going to puke. A rush of guilt floods over me. Holy shit; I cannot leave! Adam’s truck is broken and I have no car. I can’t fix what is done.
I slit every pacifier in our house.
GG was on the line. "Mom, WE just cut Kaden's pacifiers..."
Naptime is in 40 minutes and the remorse is becoming more than I can bare. I have been talking about doing this for over a year. I kept thinking it wasn’t time. We were having a baby. We were busy all summer. We were buying a house. It was the holidays. Etc Etc. I didn’t realize it boils down to when the parents are ready- not necessarily the child.
I was NOT ready.
I ran through the dining room and down the hall. I swung open his bedroom door made my way quickly to his bed throwing the four pacifiers onto his pillow. I ran out as though I had never been in there.
Nap time came. I picked Kaden up off the couch. He snuggled into my neck as I carried him into his bedroom. I put on music and laid him down. I wanted to cry. He grabbed my face and gave me a kiss, “lou lou, Mama.” I felt my throat cramp as he reached for the first “fyefye”. “I love you, too.” I whimpered as he put it in his mouth. He took it out and looked at it. He put back in. He pulled it out. He threw it. He reached for another one. I wanted to yell, “Don’t! Okay, it was me! I did it! I cut each one and I am SO sorry. I suck. You have the worst Mom in all of the land.” I didn’t say a word. I was frozen.
The second one went into his mouth. He yanked it out with absolute irritation. It was at this time now this chicken of a mom bolted for the door. I knew what was coming…
He screams like he was experiencing bodily harm, “Mama…Mama…fyefye!” This continues. After a while he tries a different approach. I hear in a confused and loving voice, “KK fyefye, pease, Mama.” I put my ear against his door and hear him catching his breath between each cry.
If I had a car I’d of swooped him up, loaded up Ashton and off to Toys-R-Us we had gone. I would have stocked up on the Avents. But, I didn’t. I just stood there with my heartbreaking.
His pleas ruined me. My heart never hurt for him more. I knew this first nap was going to be difficult, but I didn’t realize it was going to challenge my emotions. He screamed and cried. I allowed him to comfort himself and fall asleep. I wanted to go in and rub his back and hold his hand, but I couldn’t. I had to ride the course and let Kaden find his comfort. I sat in the living room and cried.
He took an abnormally long nap. I too take long sleeps after emotional excursions. When he woke he cried out to me. I came in and he rushed into my arms. I needed this more than he. I wanted his comfort just as he wanted mine. I am the person who sneakily trespassed, smuggled goods and damaged his personal items (no wonder teens want locks on their doors!) and I was to give him security? I took it… I held onto him so tight and covered him in kissed until laughter found us both.
The truth is I am ready as is Kaden. We are on day four and ya know what? We are doing fine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)