Sunday, January 22, 2012

I love you, so what else matters?

Frankly, I'm a little weepy today. It's been one of those weeks where I felt like I took hit after seemingly-not-that-big-of-a-deal hit. Debit card fraud. Babysitter with Strep throat. Replacement babysitters who had to pass the baton with my kids, where one had to pick up her own daughter by a certain time, while the other sprained her ankle and was running late- all was while I was working and could nothing about it. Client was frauded out of 10 Grand...and then lost another $500 to a completely unsympethetic corporate establishment. I had to tell the news to said client. Mama Drama. And more...Yup. Pretty much been a weepy mess today.

I saw some friends today for a much needed hike. Upon meeting them, I told one friend with tears in my eyes that it had just been a really tough week.  She asked me later, What was something good that happened this week? And I told her something good. Because it wasn't all bad.  Tonight, as I was putting my boys to bed, I had this revelation...They rely on me. They need me. Even more importantly, they WANT me. That is good.  As I tried to tiptoe out of their room after "extra hugs", Christian stammered to tell me one last thing.  "But Mom, wait Mom....I need to tell you something...Ummm...Mom....."  And I just stood there. Patiently waiting. Because I realized, even though he is "stalling", he wants me. So I just stood patiently and waited for him to tell me whatever nonsensical thing he could think up so he wouldn't officially have to go to sleep.  Usually these Stall Tactics drive me crazy, but tonight I just looked at my beautiful son and stayed put while he stammered out his excuse for needing to desperately tell me something. And I smiled. He wants me.  It won't always be like that.

Christian is at such a sweet age.  The things he knows now. The things he notices.  We walked by a trophy shop the other day and he says, "I've never had a trophy, Mom." Frankly, I didn't even know that he knew what a trophy was...  Today's conversation in the car was pretty awesome, but made me weep even more.  I'll insert here that I have really been missing my dog, Buddy, lately.  When Buddy was around and I had a hard week, I could just wrap my arms around him and weep to my hearts content.  Then, he'd look at me with that knowing look...that look that said, Well.....I love you, so what else matters? Today I found myself choked up about Buddy, because I used to always hike the trail I did this morning, with him.  Later this afternoon, as if Christian could read my mind, he said this:
C: Mom. Am I getting my doggie yet?
Me: ...You mean, are you getting a dog?
C: Yeah.
Me: Well, not yet, Sweetie.  We will get a dog someday, but not yet.
C: Is God making it right now?
Me: (Trying not to laugh/cry) Well.....God is making dogs and one day we will get one of them.
C: Aww....but it's taking a really, really long time!!!
It is an amazing age. It's conversations like that that make me want to run out and get a dog. Even though I don't feel ready, and even though we said we'd wait until Elijah is walking and even though...even though...
Even though... It would feel really good to bury my face into a dog's mass of fur and weep my eyes out, just so I can get that look.
I love you, so what else matters?


Elijah is going through separation anxiety. It's specific to me leaving the house: He sees a babysitter, he starts to cry. He wants me. And yet, it makes leaving so, so hard.  One of our therapists is a say-what-she's-thinking, perhaps a-little-bit-cynical personality type. I told her that we were having a tough time with the separation anxiety and she said, "Well, he's finally seeing the object-permanence connection."  I sort of just nodded, but thought:  No.  He figured that out quite awhile ago, but now he sees the babysitter to Mom leaving connection.  Next, I shared that Elijah had his very first Speech therapy session last week.  I was so proud of him!  He did great!  He was very focused and engaged.  He watched the therapist's mouth with interest. He even mimicked her a few times throughout the session.  Plus, she used a lot of sign language.  It was the very first time I'd seen an example of someone using it within daily life.  For the very first time, I thought: I can do this.  I get it now! So, I shared the experience with this therapist.  When I told her how focused and engaged Elijah was, she said, "Oh yeah, probably because it's new.  A new environment." This time, I actually said, "No.  I really didn't get that it was because it was new.  He was really engaged and it was great."  I don't want my child to be underestimated.  As much as I LOVE our therapists (and I do!!!), they are not with Elijah like I am with Elijah.  They don't get to see him 90% of the time. It's easy to think that they see so much, and even though we are scheduled to have  therapy 7 times a week (!!!*) that is still only 7 hours out of week that has about 63 hours of awake time.
(*Between therapists schedules and ours, we have yet to make all 7 in one week so far.  But, Speech just started. So, we'll see...)


The readers digest of it all is that I'm really overwhelmed. Things are busy and I'm responsible for a lot right now. My kids, my business, my clients, my dance students, my home, myself...I was having a little pity party moment, which I am giving myself complete freedom to have, but I saw the light tonight. My boys want me. And as much as I miss my dog, my boys give me that "look" all of the time: I love you, so what else matters? Yes, I can't escape my responsibilities right now.  Yes, I have a lot on my plate right now. Yes, I might need to weep a little and have my pity party from time to time.  My boys bring me back to what is important and keep me going. Sometimes it's these little souls that stop you mid-weep to remind you...

I love you. So, what else matters?


Anonymous said...

Nice to have some time with you this morning. We should make the hike a permanent thing so we can be outside and together. I am here if you need to talk or have someone listen to your pity party. We all deserve a pity party sometimes. Xoxo Lori

Ps - sushi is a great dog to snuggle and cry with. You can borrow her anytime.

Fabulouscm said...

I agree with anonymous, ending the week and starting the week with a hike. Really clears out the bad air and makes room for the good. Speration anixety is awful, and I feel my boy has been going through it for months, but then one day I was leaving for work I said "Bye" and he waved bye and blew me a kiss without tears. The best milestone yet.
love you.

thea said...

Everybody needs time for a pity party. If we didn't have them, we wouldn't fully appreciate the magnitude of a happy celebration. Sorry you had a bad week. So glad you were able to take a moment to breathe and reflect on what is good. It can really make all the difference :). Xoxo

There was an error in this gadget