I woke up and I’m currently sitting in the dark at the dining table. I could have kept sleeping. But when the clock struck 5, I knew it’d be best to get out of bed and get the morning started for ME so I could help Ishu get the morning started for HIM when it’s time. 

This week has been rough in the mornings. Ishu’s felt rushed. Everything sets him off. We try and we try and we try to be patient. But he can read between the lines.

Something about having a really sensitive child is that he experiences things so so deeply. And that means he also can identify emotions and feelings in others so clearly. 

Yesterday, at pick-up, I was trying to hurry us along. I was trying to take advantage of the fact that the sun was out and wanted to walk over to the library. Ishu does what he always does. He meanders. He wants to walk slowly and point out all the things. And, as we were passing the front office, he was pointing out some new chair? (I don’t know what it looked like because, of course, I was five steps ahead of him trying to usher him out the door quickly). 

He smiled at me. 

I said, “Okay, okay, okay, let’s go,” and he must have seen something in my face because he responded with, “I LOVE YOU. Mama, even though you’re mad at me, I love you.” 

Which obviously breaks me a little inside. 

Because of course I’m not mad at him. 

But I’m clearly giving off some sort of distracted, elusive, not-very-present vibe to my child who is now interpreting it as me being mad at him. 

We walked over to the library. Returned some books. The baby fell asleep in the stroller so I pushed it against the wall and sat down with my little guy as we picked new books off the shelves.

“Read it, please!” he asked. 

“Well,” I started to say, knowing we didn’t have much time before we had to head home, “let’s read the summary on the sleeve. And then we’ll look through the pictures and if it looks like an interesting book to you, we can check it out and take it home.” 

We started to do that for a bit. 

Pulling out book after book. “Let’s read the pictures, Mama!” (Obviously, every book looked interesting to this child so we came home with quite a stack). 

He pulled out Jumanji and I tried to push it back in.

“I think that one might be a little scary for you. Maybe we can read that when you’re older,” I offered.

He pulled it back out and added it to the pile. “But I’m BRAVE.” 

I put the pile of books into the bottom of the stroller and wheeled it over to the desk. Ishu took such pride in taking each one out and sliding them across the desk to the librarian. He then handed over the library card and eagerly put the books back into the stroller. Aside from two that he wanted to hold in his hand because “they were his favorite.” 

The library reset us.

Well, it reset me. 

It gave me a chance to sit down, get out of my head, and be with Ishu. 

And I think he could sense the change in me. 

On the walk home, he opted to put his favorite books at the bottom of the stroller so he could hold my hand. And that was very much him silently saying to me, “Mama. You’re not mad at me. You’re here with me. I love you.” 

Gah. 

I realize I’m not always going to end each day thinking, “Damn. I killed it at mommying today.” 

In fact, more often than not, I’ll comb through my day and think about all the things I could have done better. 

That was me yesterday.

But, when I think back to our half hour at the library, I am reminded that we get to start over all the time. We have our messy moments, our dramatic outbursts, our faces that read, “LET’S HURRY THE EFF UP PLEASE.” And that’s OK. We can start again. Over and over and over. 

It’s Friday. 

My children are sleeping. 

We are happy and healthy and safe and warm. 

I will, inevitably, be distracted at some point today when my child is talking to me.

AND

I know that I get to start over. 

Push reset.

Again and again and again. 

Deep breaths. 

Have a beautiful day and a great weekend.