Thursday, May 10, 2012

Little Hands

It's nearing the end of preschool.  We have sing a longs, we have feild trips, mother's day crafts and memory folders.  Amongst these are these are the poem:
"Sometimes you get discouraged because I am so small, I leave my little fingerprints on every single wall.  But I am growing and I'll be all grown up someday and surely all those fingerprints will slowly fade away.  And so here's a final handprint so you can recall, just how my hand looked when I was so small." 
We also got a lovely poem about a mom ranting at her son for writing on the walls and at the end she goes to see the wall and they had written "I love you mom" with a heart. 
Well thank you for the mom guilt. 
It was such a long morning.  I had to tell Bray about a zillion (that's right...a zillion) times to go do a potty try before school.  Finally, he goes...on top of the toilet and also hitting his underwear, pants and school bag (impressive really, but still frustrating).  We get it together, get to school, drop the kids off and then I go to the store to get stuff for the ice cream social tomorrow in Gav's class and some other things I need, including a roasted chicken.  Amanda and I get back to the chickens and they don't come out for another 25 minutes.  Of course.  We head to our next errand and the store isn't open.  We wait.  She is angry that I have strapped her in a stroller and letting the whole wide world know.  Store opens, we are in and out and back to the grocery store for the chicken.  We go home to unload and Amanda continues her tirade on the world for being strapped in the carseat yet again. 
We go to get Brayden, run home, unload the bags of groceries, put a few things away and then load back up to hear Gavin's "spring sing" at school.  I shove a few snacks in my pockets hoping it will occupy my little one who is now beyond angry at her life, being shuffled in and out of the car/stroller/cart. 
We listen to the spring sing, try to gather information about the feild trip tomorrow (which is at the same time as Brayden's and I am trying to figure out the chaperone situation and getting no where).  We go to the car and Gavin starts to cry that he didn't get a snack and amanda and Bray did.  I can already tell he's tired.  Then I stop him to look at a small hole in his shirt and he loses it wanting to change his shirt and is beside himself when I tell him no.  (Really, it's the smallest hole ever and a cool shirt and he's just going nuts...so is Amanda at this point). 
I turn the radio up as loud as I can to drown them out.  At this point I am not sure if I should laugh or cry. 
I get Amanda and Bray in the house and inform Gav he can come in when he calms down.  I make lunch and go see if Gav is ready...he's not.  Brayden follows me and starts to lecture Gavin too.  This helps no one, especially since Brayden is not supposed to get up from the table.  Amanda, after filling up on snacks throws her food on the ground and signs all done while screaming.  I clean up after her, get her down and check on Gav.  Still crying.  Get back inside and Bray is feeding Amanda, like she's a small dog.  I put her back in the chair, because I am trying to teach her to sit at the table and not walk around with her food.  She goes nuts.  Bray complains he doesn't like the food.  I can still hear Gavin crying.  AWESOME! 
I am so grumpy and short with them all at this point.  Finally, I get Gavin to chill out, clean up Bray and put Amanda down for a nap.  Then we all sit to read Gavin's memory album and Bray's mother's day gift and enter the poems.  I start to cry.  For real.  My kids look like I have completely lost it.
I had just had four hours of grueling parenting and I am sad that I actually know deep down I'll miss it.  I am also sad that I didn't spend the day reading books, going to the park, or at least responding to my grumpy kids with patience and sunshine like you think you should do after reading such poems.
But...I did sign up to get Gav's class Hersey syrup.  I did promise to make a chicken salad with roasted chicken to shawn, Brayden does only have one pair of socks and I told him I'd get new ones and I do think it's important my kids learn a hole in one's shirt is not worth a monumental tantrum and that we cannot eat our food walking all over the house and dropping it where ever we deem convienent. 
At the first sign of tears, the boys hug me and snuggle in.  I cuddle them back and set the poems face down, taking a deep breathe.  It's a compromise.  Mothering isn't just sunshine and joy.  They are kids and if we are doing it right, there will be tears because they are being molded and we are being molded.  Both of us learning to do it better.  On the flipside, sometimes we do need to laugh instead of cry and embrace the mess, the tears and the chaos for what it is.  And so...when I sent the boys to quiet time and Bray turned around and said, "But mom, I just want to sit and snuggle you," I melted, chucked my idea of getting a few things accomplished out the window and sat on the couch to snuggle.  No tears this time.  Just some deep breathes and having those little hands go around my neck. 

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