Lesson Learned
by Christa Brunori LincsMag Writer.
Date: 02 March 2010
"What more could she possibly want?" I wondered with aggravation and slight annoyance.
Feeling as though I've done my best with providing for her daily needs, the thought of having to do one more thing at that particular moment, irked me beyond belief. Little did she know I had had an awful day.
Dealing with all the usual and not so usual conflicts that life loves to throw my way, I craved a much needed moment alone. My mind was in a place all to my own.
I feared having to intervene, yet another, disagreement between her and her big brother. The constant nagging of each other seems endless on days like these. In most cases, they seem to work things out in a considerably normal time frame, however, the natural differences between males and females rears its ugly head from a very early age.
Having attempted to explain each others argument to the other party and doing one's darnedest to work out a mutual understanding and solution to their quarrel on various occasions, I realized I was in no way mentally or emotionally prepared to do so again.
However, it was my lucky day. There was no need for such intervention.
Foul Play
The following thought was that a disastrous mess had been made and my over reactive, obsessive compulsive disorder was in dire need of being utilized. A memory occurred of one particular hodgepodge, warning me of a time I feared could be similar to what might be needed of me now.
Not too long ago, I woke to a certain aroma suffocating the air between the saltillo tile floor and fifteen foot ceiling. So utterly unbearable, that I believed every hidden crack must have absorbed the odour, letting it linger for days to come.
Dragging my slipper covered feet through the hall, I must have resembled a blood-hound on the hunt, head forward, nose actively sniffing in hopes of finding a trail.
My southern hound days paid off, as I stumbled across what belonged to the sensational aroma that was grand enough to wake me from a night's sleep.
Neatly disguised amongst a pile of toys in the children's room, was what looked like an explosion of liquid dung on the rug. Every toy within a four foot radius had fallen victim to the side effects from one of my pets.
Judging by the blast radius and toy causalities, it was only natural to assume that it belonged to the dog.
I approached the war zone to better assess what weapons of mass cleaning I would need, but was abruptly stopped by yet another discovery. One of the cats was considerate enough to warn me of the dogs mess, by urinating on the bit of tile just before the poop soaked rug, prohibiting access to the main event.
I could only hope that nothing needed of me now, resembled that dreadful morning.
Mommy!
As I sat in front of the computer desperately hoping that I would be left alone and not needed for a mere ten minutes, the voice of my little girl calling out, "Mommy!" rapidly approached.
My mind had gone back to the thought of what she could possibly need. Eyes focused on the monitor, my fingers typed away.
In mid sentence, I was jolted forward, disrupting my concentration. Just as I wanted to fuss at my daughter for playing rough around the computer and avoiding the fact that I was busy, I realized she had leapt onto me just for a hug and to say, "I love you, Mommy."
Before I could even wrap my head around the sincerity of her gesture and the disappointment in myself to give a proper response, she dashed around the corner and was off.
In times of struggle, no matter how long a day or how difficult a year, patience is a virtue. It is significantly important for us to take time for ourselves, but what I was reminded on that day was the impact we have on our little ones.
When we think we need to get away, that is precisely when we need them the most.
