Today was a good day. EJ went to school, Nora hung with me. I picked EJ up from school and rather than going home for naps, we went to Amy's house for the afternoon since I knew Omar had to work late. This was win-win: EJ got to play with her bestie Elliott, and I got to spend time with my bestie Amy. Plus Nora naps anywhere and Amy has a new baby so basically we spend our time sitting around nursing our nuggets while making sure our toddlers don't kill each other.
The fine line always is missing the nap. On the one hand, she only actually naps every 3 days or so. On the other hand, at the end of the week adding on a super-awesome 5 hour playdate with her favorite playmate is a recipe for exhaustion. Which leads me to the looooooooooooooong part of the day, and what people without kids probably don't understand: a really great day can become an agonizingly long day so very quickly, and in just the final hour or two before bedtime.
We got home. There were tears on her part just getting out of the car (how dare I ask her to carry in her bookbag, didn't I know how HEAVY it was???) EJ needed dinner but didn't want to eat anything I made nor actually sit down. In the final 30 minutes of her day between arriving home and eating dinner, she went to timeout 4 times. At bedtime, getting her upstairs and ready for bed was another massive fight that ended in tears for both of us and makes me worried about the teenage years. And all I can think is that such a fun day, one that involved laughing, learning, singing, running, jumping, climbing, exploring, and getting dirty (in a good way) could end so badly, so that her last memories of the day were of frustration, anger, and tears. That's not how I want her day to end. That's not what I want her childhood to be filled with, and yet so many days end that way. I hope I am not the only mom who can claim that.
So, after I left her crying, locked in her bedroom, seeing red because she refused to put on her pullup and I couldn't physically force her nor mentally threaten her to do it, I sat and cried at the top of the stairs and realized that I shouldn't have to take either of those approaches, and I didn't want her day to end that way. And my amazing husband came home (FINALLY) from work right at that moment and said the magic words that all wives want to hear: 'What can I do to help" and I was able to unload on him and rather than crucifying me for my appalling actions he said he understood and we have all been there (which I don't know if I believe but it did make me feel better).
And then I was able to pull it together and go back in there and apologize to my daughter. Because I think it is important to always say you are sorry, to admit when you have behaved badly, to own it. And I held her and hugged her and kissed her all over and let her know how very much I love her, and how she is the most important little person in my life. And I can only hope and pray that her take-away from tonight, what she remembers, is that her mom is a normal person who can make mistakes and act badly, but that at the end of it all, her mom is also someone who can own her mistakes, say she is sorry, and that - NO MATTER WHAT - I love her more than life.
She got lots of extra snuggles from me. And probably the authors of the kid discipline books out there would be horrified by my actions (since, let's be honest, she was a total nightmare and rather than standing my ground I totally folded and wrapped her in hugs and kisses and love), but I'm ok with that. Sometimes we all need to take a step back, take a deep breath, and look at the bigger picture and the smaller moments. My big picture here was that no one is more important or loved than my daughter. My smaller moment is that she was shattered, and she needed my love. And she got it. She always will.
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