October 8, 2013

At the end of this stressful day I was running very low on patience.  I just needed to get the little boys to bed and I knew I could hide in my room to clear the day's clutter from my head before bed.  The most difficult part about putting the little boys to bed is having the older kids in the house who aren't at the moment getting ready for bed.  Nathan and Hyrum are constantly distracted between each step of the bedtime routine: pajamas, brushing teeth, getting drinks, story time, prayers and giving hugs.  It's like herding monkeys (or so I imagine).

After repeating myself calmly several times, I gave up the idea of brushing their teeth or reading time and simply corralled them to their room, tucked them in, turned off the light and left.  I was trying really hard not to yell. By the time I got across the hall to my own room I could hear the crying start up in unison.  They sounded like two year olds bellowing their disapproval.  I let it happen for a few minutes, wanting to cry myself.

When I had composed myself enough to be nice I went into their room and turned on the light.  They immediately stopped the bawling and stared at me through tear filled eyes. In a whisper I asked, "how do you feel right now".  The all encompassing "sad" was their response with Hyrum's follow up answer of "scared".  "What you are feeling right now is how I feel right now.  I'm sad that you keep ignoring me and I'm scared that I'm going to yell at you and hurt your feelings".

After blank stares I suggested we all think about how we are feeling and how we are making each other feel.  I wish I could say that I suggested another prayer with them or cuddles that ended in laughter but I didn't.  It wasn't in me at the moment.

I went to do dishes - two days worth of dishes.  As I was finishing up 45 minutes later, Nathan came walking into the kitchen with a shy but peaceful look on his face. I paused to listen to him.  "I've been thinking about my behavior and I want to say I'm sorry.  I didn't want to hurt your feelings and I promise I will be better tomorrow."  His apology was so sincere and humble, not wanting anything in return.  I took that little boy in my arms and hugged him probably longer than he wanted.  "I really love you, mom".

Suddenly, all the frustrations and stress and anxiety of the day melted away.  I hugged him a couple more times and we talked for just a minute, offering sorrow and receiving forgiveness from each other, and then I walked him to bed.  We giggled as we listened to Hyrum snore and the night ended much better for both of us.

Thank you, Nathan, for restoring the spirit in our home tonight.  You are a tender spirit with so much goodness.