She Taught Me

It was another day in the life of being a mom, sister, daughter, aunt, wife, employee, and friend.

After a full day at work, Alayna and I went rounds again after school. This time it was because she nonchalantly walked into Caden's daycare tonight and erased the whiteboard-artwork of him and his girl-friend. I didn't know whether to be proud that she was showing his "girlfriend" that Lil' Sis was in town, or frustrated that she was just that rude and blunt. Either way, she didn't apologize, and I fought the battle until she did.

Jarin then came home, asked if we wanted to go on a walk -- let's be real, it is beautiful out -- but I couldn't reward the little snot. She was charged with helping with laundry, making dinner, and setting the table. Dinner was served just as the boys came home from their jog.

Moogs and Miss Hayden stopped by then. Can't get enough love from that little stinker. Some day, I promised Meg that she'd give her a run for her money, just as Alayna does me. We'll see. Mom took a detour on her way home from the grocery store, and came to say hi before bedtime. This is the joy of being so close to family. We giggled together for a bit, and then Grandma reitterated with Alayna the importance of letting others know when you are in the wrong.

I chose a random bedtime story from Alayna's library as I tucked her in, (recall the occurrence from just 3 hours prior) and it ended with this:

"I love you when you're nice. I love you cranky, too.

I love you without liking the naughty things you do."

 

We sat together after this, my four-year-old and I, talking about the meaning. I explained that no matter what she ever did, I'd love her because I was her mommy; but that didn't make her actions right. She was actually listening, believe it or not, and even responded with, "I'm sorry." Those were the two words I worked on for nearly an hour tonight, and here in just 3 minutes, she got it.

 

And then I thought about the many things I may have done to disappoint my mom, sister, or husband. The negative things I may have said to them, or even my kids. Have I always stood up to say sorry? Or did I assume they knew? Sometimes it's the lack of communication that we provide to those we care most about, that leaves the biggest scar.

 

As my cell rang, I tucked Alayna in, and on the front of my phone I saw a photo of a far away friend, who I hadn't seen in nearly 2 years. God was making an amazing connection for me at this moment. Did she know how often I think of her; how much it meant that she called? This was my chance to do as I say, and I was sure to share how excited I was to hear from her.

 

I found it so thoughtful that she took the time to call, and felt so bad that I haven't been the one with initiative. For her, and many of my friends who live across the country, my lack of communication means that I owe you an apology. I do care, and think of you often.

 

Thank you Alayna for teaching me a message tonight. Just as I shared with you the meaning and ease in saying I'm sorry... so too is finding 30 minutes for a friend.

Intervention

And, the worst-mom-of-the-day goes to... Kristi!

Yep, that is about how I felt today. Tired and hungry, I picked up the kids from school. Late, of course. I told them I'd be there before 5 p.m. It was now 5:10. That's pretty much how my day went though. As I walked into the building I debated who to pick up from their room first. I landed on Alayna... not sure why, but it was a mistake. She wasn't done coloring. I said 'Hi' as I walked in, asked her to pick up her items, and then started visiting with the teachers. I realized then that she was not paying a darn ounce of attention to me, so just as I was taught on SuperNanny, I knelt down to her level and calmy asked her to put away the markers.

She still thought my request meant nothing, and continued ignoring me. Okay, I thought, we'll do the count-to-3-trick. Still nothing. Finally, I took the markers out of her hand, replaced the caps and picked up her paper. In return I received a few hits to the face, kicks to the body, tearing of the paper and screaming at the top of the lungs.

Seriously? At this point, it wasn't only the other 3- and 4-year olds who were staring, it was the teachers, the parents, and the daycare director. Yep. I was doing awesome.

I picked up the little brat and carried her to her locker (heaven for bid it be outside the classroom!) I didn't look up, but I'm sure they were still staring. Alayna was now ripping her bag out of my hands, hitting her locker and bawling. You'd seriously have thought I was trying to kidnap her.

Somehow I saved her eyeglasses from being torn off her face and grabbed my keys, her ruffled papers, folder and opened backpack in one arm, had the 42-pounder under the other, pushed the classroom door opened and escaped into the hallway. Whew! There was a chair, and she was going to time out.

Nice try Super-Mom. All she had to do was get up. And just as any SuperNanny would teach, I picked her up, placed her right back in the chair and turned my back to eliminate any attention. Okay, so repeat 2-3-5 times, and what do you get? You guessed it! The daycare director intervention!

Sure enough Gina came out, sat down by Alayna and said, "You're mommy is going to go get your brother now. You can stay with me and talk about why you are mad. She'll come back for you." And with that, my control was gone. I was walking away, letting someone (much wiser and calmer than I) take care of her.

After getting Cade (who, may I add, is so easy!?!?!) we returned to the hall where Alayna's chaos had come to a halt. She had the attention of two teachers now, and as we approached her they enforced the need to tell mommy sorry. Pouts and all, we left the building and made it to the car. It was all I could do to not rip out the spankings from my pile of never-tried-mommy-techniques. But I didn't.

When we got home, it was a time out and then a removal of all bedtime snuggles -- no more stuffed animals, pillow pets, or build-a-bears for one week. I'll show her yet.