Tonight I threw my hands in the air and marched to my room as soon as the kids were in bed. I was so done being a mommy and everything else required of me for the day and week. As I lay on the bed and calmed down I began to think of some of the moments this week that I really felt like I had my Mom game on.
Some days I really blow it. I say mean things to my kids, I lose my patience and sometimes I actually just don't care about certain things in their life, like when they are being hit or teased for the umpteenth time by their sibling. They usually bring that stuff on themselves and I get sick of hearing about it. However this week I had a couple of moments where I knew I was mothering the way my Heavenly Father expects me too.
As mothers there is this invisible thread that ties us to our children. My Mom still has it with her kids. In my scariest, most desperate moments my mother has always felt the need to call me. It is uncanny. How does she do that, still? I have recently realized that I get to have that magical thread sometimes too. I have learned to respond to impressions. Sometimes those impressions are fueled by normal worrying (we can't ever stop) but sometimes they are more than that.
Isaac has his paper route on Wednesdays. This week on Wednesday I had a full afternoon. I picked up Isaac's papers and dropped him off at home with specific directions to wear a hat, gloves, and his heaviest coat on his route. It was a frigid day. Tom was at home sick and I had to get Becca and myself to achievement day activities. After an hour and a half with a bunch of eight year olds I returned home at around 5 pm to find that Isaac was still not home. Usually I just wait till he gets home. But I immediately turned the car around and went to check on him. I felt like I needed to see how he was doing. As I turned around I noticed that it was 18 degrees outside and the sun was going down.
A few minutes later I found Isaac in the middle of his route. He was in tears and completely dejected. I was afraid he had hit an icy patch with his bike and fallen.
"I can't do this anymore, Mom. I quit." he said.
Well I would want to quit too if I was doing my route in 18 degree weather, especially if I had chosen to wear nothing but a sweatshirt hoodie. Why are 11 year olds so stupid?
He climbed in the car and threw the rest of his route from the window. We discussed the reasons we wear warm clothes in frigid weather and why it is important to be prepared before we leave.
The more I think about this experience, the more grateful I am for the prompting to go rescue Isaac. He had a good 45 minutes of outside time to go. He was so cold and could easily have been in danger of frostbite or another sickness. It scares me to think about it. But I am grateful for that thread that somehow ties us mothers to the safety of our children. That lets us feel when we are needed.
On the other hand it also lets us know when we really don't have to run to the rescue. The next day Becca called me from school 20 minutes before the end of the day. She wanted me to come get her and I knew that she would be OK for another 20 minutes. I certainly was not going to make an extra trip. "Nope, I said. Go find a place to relax until the end of the day."
It seems weird that I feel as good about this response as the Isaac rescue mission. Sometimes we can't always rescue our kids from every little discomfort or mistake. Sometimes they have to ride out the hard times in life, especially when you are on your way. However the awesome part of being a Mom is understanding and being available when it is time to rescue.
Sorry for the long post.
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