Better Moments

There are often times when I don't feel like a very good mom... when I'm impatient and tired and short tempered with my babies. Like when I take them to the parade and the littlest one needs to be held the whole time so he's not bothered by the loud noises. And the older one asks for a freezie every 4 minutes (and while I remembered freezies and ice, I forgot scissors). And even though there is only maybe an ounce of liquid in those freezies, I guess 5 or 6 add up and, wouldn't you know it, she has to pee. On parade day. Of course she has to pee. When everything is closed. And crowds of people still watching the parade litter the sidewalks on which I try to maneuver my sit and stand stroller. We finally made it to the courthouse that I hoped would let a harried mom and her new-to-using-the-potty three-year-old use the restroom. Of course we could; we just had to go through airport-like security first. After re-loading our camping chairs and diaper bag, we are directed to the elevators where we can find the bathroom. We managed to make it before my Zoe peed her pants and she did actually pee when we were there. (I don't know how many times she's infuriated me by saying, "I can't do it" after we've frantically found a restroom out and about.) After a morning out like this, I feel defeated and irritable, so glad I'm not a single mom. I feel like I never "have it together" and that my children know exactly the buttons to press to stress me out and vow to never take them out again.

But then there are moments like last night around 10:00 PM or so. We had put Zoe to bed two hours earlier, but we had heard her playing quietly (and not-so-quietly) in her room and then in our room. Dan went up once. When I went up I found her in our ensuite, just climbing onto the toilet, key to the locked medicine cabinet in-hand. I put her back to bed and put a baby gate on our bedroom door. The third time Zoe had come down the stairs to the landing and was dancing in the dark. Dan put her back to bed and took away "Blanket number two" (this is what her baby quilt is named), as he warned her he would if she continued to play around and not stay in her bed. She freaked out and proceeded to cry. When she had not calmed down after a few minutes, I went up there to calm her down.

(Here comes my better moment...)

"I know you're upset that you don't have Blanket Number Two, but I think you need to calm down and go to sleep.
"Here, let me lie down beside you." I cuddle her for a couple minutes while she calms down.
"I think you're having trouble falling asleep; you know what I want you to do? I want you to think about the adventure walk that we went on, when mommy picked up trash and you picked sunflowers (dandelions)..."
"And then we went to the park?" she asked.
"Yes, then we ended up at the park. And then I want you to think about this summer and all the fun things we're going to do... I want you to think about going to the park and playing in the spray park and the sandbox... and meeting friends..."
"You mean, my friend Lowana?"
"Yes, like our friends Lowana and Zander. So I want you to think about all the happiest things you can think of like flowers and butterflies--"
"And I can catch a butterfly on my finger?"
"Yes, if you can catch a butterfly, you can put it on your finger. I want you to think about these happy things while you lay in your bed, ok? Then you can fall asleep thinking about happy things. I love you."

Finally. A moment with my child where I didn't feel like a complete failure.