Going to an event is always a gamble. Kids run riot which frustrates the husband resulting in me trying to make sure he doesn't get mad while simultaneously trying to rain in 2 rambunctious children during the witching hour.
You bend and weave at each new thing desperately trying to hold on and keep your head up. Trying to to be all things to all people and failing in ways you haven't even thought of. Because I don't want to be the mom who yells or gers angry and so...
You give up.
Or at least I did.
I left it all and changed into my pjs and got into bed. We were home so the husband was less likely to blow a fuse. It was safer for me to let go.
So I did... Because sometimes you have to.
And then came the cry.
Then it came louder
And then the call.
Mama
Mama
Mama
I called out hoping it would be enough.
'It's time to sleep. It's not awake time'
And louder the call came.
Mama.
So I dragged my weary soul. Hope that all it needed was a face. A quick hug. A short cuddle.
All three in quick succession and then I turned to leave. And the cry came again.
Louder and forlone.
So I got my pillow and sat on the floor next to his crib. I shoved my hand through the thin slots. A prison that held me even though I was on the outside. He grabbed hand and held tight. A long day had just become longer.
But in that moment he said again.
Mama
And this time it was different. This time it was hopeful and happy. He clutched at my hand and sighed. Content. I listened as his breathing slowed down till I heard that slow steady pace of a sleeping toddler still clutching at my hand.
In those moments all the frustration of the day melted away and I felt so blessed and honoured to be mother to this little boy.
I don't know how long I sat there listening to them breathing but it was the perfect end to a less than perfect day.
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