okay here is the back drop... mike went way with the boys on a boys camping weekend. this is great in theory, i'm all for it. this left me with zoe and rose. lets just say that at this stage in life, i was holding the short end of the stick, the more high-maintenance end, the possible bed-wetting, the needing constant reminders to do anything end, the follows you around and stares at you end, the endless conversation and question asking end. the "can i please use your computer to google homemade videos of people snoring" end. anyway....
the weekend was fine and the boys rolled in mid-afternoon. i knew they'd be tired and hungry so i cleaned up the house, made a favorite dinner early (even the gluten/ dairy free part) and got popcorns. mike announced that he'd have to go to work for the rest of the night because of a meeting he has tomorrow.
okay, so not exactly what i was hoping for, but i can roll with it. or so i thought. i can totally rock the single parent bedtime routine. i mean, i have it down...except when you throw a monkey wrench in it, like this one....
most of them had brushed and pajama-ed and i'd laid out the clothes for tomorrow and even read a book to the three younger ones while the boys were in the tub. smooth sailing. then it was time to pack their bags for school tomorrow. and i happened to look in their folders. and i happened to remember that they had homework... and for jude... it happened to be an ENTIRE REPORT on christopher columbus. ooooppps.
he started to cry.
it was 7:12.
i meanwhile was swallowing my laugh because this. is. the. story. of. my. life. i was always forgetting about my report on the vertebrae or the opium poppy, until sunday night before i had to go to back to school. i was always tormenting my parents with my ADD-ish approach to scholastic organization. and here i was, teaching this to my kids!
"teacher sharon is going to KILL me!!!" jude sobbed.
"don't worry, i will take the blame." i retorted.
"teacher sharon is going to KILL me!!" jude whinned, completely unconvinced of my blame taking offer.
"okay, well, lucky for you, we have a book on christopher columbus.....somewhere.. and lucky for you...i'm REALLY good at last minute."
"but teacher sharon is going to KILL me!!"
at this point, rose and bryn who were doing something God knows what but it wasn't bothering us, came in.
"did you guys brush your teeth and go potty?" i said trying to remain calm as i scramble through the bookshelves.
"i left my toothbrush at the camping place mom!" says bryn.
"well find an extra one somewhere." i said reading through all the dr. suess titles to find "my first biographies"
"there AREN'T any extra ones!!"
"then use your finger"
"i CAN'T use my finger!"
"argh!!" i say throwing found biography book on the dinning room table for jude and heading for the bathroom.
"who's is this light green one?" i say, having no idea nor care about who's toothbrush it is.
"that's judes"
" but i thought judes is purple?"
"he has two." said bryn.
"perfect than use this one!"
"i CAN'T!"
"well bryn... i don't know what to tell you. go to bed with dirty teeth, but read rose a story first."
rose had been standing in my face for most of this conversation and both she and bryn started to cry.
"i want YOU to read me the story mommy!!" says rose.
"MOM!!! it doesn't SAY where christopher columbus was born!" shouted jude.
and zoe's silence meant that she was clearly NOT doing her bedtime routine. the sailing was not so smooth.
"OKAY! here is the deal.... YOU" pointing at bryn "are going to take your unbrushed teeth and read to rose. and rose YOU are not going to pout because i've been with you all weekend. and i am going to figure out exactly WHERE christopher columbus was born. OKAY?"
the two little ones disappeared. jude and i finished his report in about 20 minutes with two references, both being (believe it or not) printed and not from the internet.
so i calmly tucked rose in. then the boys- with tears over lost glowstick connectors and "please don't sing any Jesus songs tonight, i want you to sing close your eyes." then i headed toward the dreaded room of zoe, knowing all too well, what awaited me......namely that she would have done nothing to get ready for bed.
sho' nuff'.
i yelled. i shoved her pajama shirt on her. i pushed her into the bathroom. and i began to clean up the kitchen. 5 minutes later i went to check on her. she was standing in the bathroom with her HAND covered in toothpaste. "oopps" she said.
i wanted to kill her. i wanted to smear that toothpaste all over her face. it was all i could do to not do that. but off came the screen of restraint and out came the verbal garbage...."YOU NINCOMPOOP!" yes i actually said that. oh dear. it was a mess.
i was just so tired and so tired of the years of it. so tired of the possibility of so many more years of it. i just want ONE night to have it not be about her. one night when someone else can take the time up. one night when i only have to ask her 3 times and not stand next to her to make sure she does it.
we went to her room and i tried, calmly now, to explain to her some of my frustrations in a way that was not degrading her personhood. in a way that would make sense but not be comparing her to other neurotypical 14 year olds, or myself at 14. and i tried to hear her in a way that might let me understand where she was coming from. then i closed my eyes and kissed her forehead and began to pray out loud. for patience. for understanding. for gentleness. and for her to care and to try.
she pulled me close and hugged me. my head was on her chest and i could hear her little heart beating and i began to cry. i could hear that little heart and i wondered when was the last time that i listened to it and why had it been so long. i could hear in that heartbeat all the years we've walked together. i remembered all the early echo's and cardiology visits when she had 2 holes in that heart. i remembered all the appointments and the xrays and the unfolding of her story- her curved spine, her shoulder, her body that came out of my body with broken parts to forever remind me of all my many broken parts. and then i cried harder.
zoe patted my back and rubbed my arm with her butter soft hands. "mom aren't you going to keep praying?"
"no. it's your turn." i wept, meaning so much more than praying.
"dear Jesus thank you for my mom. thank you that she loves me..."
i don't remember the rest. that was enough. that was all i needed to hear to know that it will, in some form or another, be okay. because somehow, despite my parenting, despite my big, filter-less mouth, despite my anger and impatience, somehow she knows i love her.
and i do. so. much.
the weekend was fine and the boys rolled in mid-afternoon. i knew they'd be tired and hungry so i cleaned up the house, made a favorite dinner early (even the gluten/ dairy free part) and got popcorns. mike announced that he'd have to go to work for the rest of the night because of a meeting he has tomorrow.
okay, so not exactly what i was hoping for, but i can roll with it. or so i thought. i can totally rock the single parent bedtime routine. i mean, i have it down...except when you throw a monkey wrench in it, like this one....
most of them had brushed and pajama-ed and i'd laid out the clothes for tomorrow and even read a book to the three younger ones while the boys were in the tub. smooth sailing. then it was time to pack their bags for school tomorrow. and i happened to look in their folders. and i happened to remember that they had homework... and for jude... it happened to be an ENTIRE REPORT on christopher columbus. ooooppps.
he started to cry.
it was 7:12.
i meanwhile was swallowing my laugh because this. is. the. story. of. my. life. i was always forgetting about my report on the vertebrae or the opium poppy, until sunday night before i had to go to back to school. i was always tormenting my parents with my ADD-ish approach to scholastic organization. and here i was, teaching this to my kids!
"teacher sharon is going to KILL me!!!" jude sobbed.
"don't worry, i will take the blame." i retorted.
"teacher sharon is going to KILL me!!" jude whinned, completely unconvinced of my blame taking offer.
"okay, well, lucky for you, we have a book on christopher columbus.....somewhere.. and lucky for you...i'm REALLY good at last minute."
"but teacher sharon is going to KILL me!!"
at this point, rose and bryn who were doing something God knows what but it wasn't bothering us, came in.
"did you guys brush your teeth and go potty?" i said trying to remain calm as i scramble through the bookshelves.
"i left my toothbrush at the camping place mom!" says bryn.
"well find an extra one somewhere." i said reading through all the dr. suess titles to find "my first biographies"
"there AREN'T any extra ones!!"
"then use your finger"
"i CAN'T use my finger!"
"argh!!" i say throwing found biography book on the dinning room table for jude and heading for the bathroom.
"who's is this light green one?" i say, having no idea nor care about who's toothbrush it is.
"that's judes"
" but i thought judes is purple?"
"he has two." said bryn.
"perfect than use this one!"
"i CAN'T!"
"well bryn... i don't know what to tell you. go to bed with dirty teeth, but read rose a story first."
rose had been standing in my face for most of this conversation and both she and bryn started to cry.
"i want YOU to read me the story mommy!!" says rose.
"MOM!!! it doesn't SAY where christopher columbus was born!" shouted jude.
and zoe's silence meant that she was clearly NOT doing her bedtime routine. the sailing was not so smooth.
"OKAY! here is the deal.... YOU" pointing at bryn "are going to take your unbrushed teeth and read to rose. and rose YOU are not going to pout because i've been with you all weekend. and i am going to figure out exactly WHERE christopher columbus was born. OKAY?"
the two little ones disappeared. jude and i finished his report in about 20 minutes with two references, both being (believe it or not) printed and not from the internet.
so i calmly tucked rose in. then the boys- with tears over lost glowstick connectors and "please don't sing any Jesus songs tonight, i want you to sing close your eyes." then i headed toward the dreaded room of zoe, knowing all too well, what awaited me......namely that she would have done nothing to get ready for bed.
sho' nuff'.
i yelled. i shoved her pajama shirt on her. i pushed her into the bathroom. and i began to clean up the kitchen. 5 minutes later i went to check on her. she was standing in the bathroom with her HAND covered in toothpaste. "oopps" she said.
i wanted to kill her. i wanted to smear that toothpaste all over her face. it was all i could do to not do that. but off came the screen of restraint and out came the verbal garbage...."YOU NINCOMPOOP!" yes i actually said that. oh dear. it was a mess.
i was just so tired and so tired of the years of it. so tired of the possibility of so many more years of it. i just want ONE night to have it not be about her. one night when someone else can take the time up. one night when i only have to ask her 3 times and not stand next to her to make sure she does it.
we went to her room and i tried, calmly now, to explain to her some of my frustrations in a way that was not degrading her personhood. in a way that would make sense but not be comparing her to other neurotypical 14 year olds, or myself at 14. and i tried to hear her in a way that might let me understand where she was coming from. then i closed my eyes and kissed her forehead and began to pray out loud. for patience. for understanding. for gentleness. and for her to care and to try.
she pulled me close and hugged me. my head was on her chest and i could hear her little heart beating and i began to cry. i could hear that little heart and i wondered when was the last time that i listened to it and why had it been so long. i could hear in that heartbeat all the years we've walked together. i remembered all the early echo's and cardiology visits when she had 2 holes in that heart. i remembered all the appointments and the xrays and the unfolding of her story- her curved spine, her shoulder, her body that came out of my body with broken parts to forever remind me of all my many broken parts. and then i cried harder.
zoe patted my back and rubbed my arm with her butter soft hands. "mom aren't you going to keep praying?"
"no. it's your turn." i wept, meaning so much more than praying.
"dear Jesus thank you for my mom. thank you that she loves me..."
i don't remember the rest. that was enough. that was all i needed to hear to know that it will, in some form or another, be okay. because somehow, despite my parenting, despite my big, filter-less mouth, despite my anger and impatience, somehow she knows i love her.
and i do. so. much.
2 comments:
That was the most beautiful thing I have read in a long time. And I read quite a bit.
You are an inspiration to me.
I hope to have your patience and attention and belief.
And your writing is fascination and moving, to tears.
Thank you.
Tami.
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