I have three boys who are very young. I have not mastered home organization or using my time wisely. I seem to pick the wrong times to clean and get frustrated when the tornado trio come and destroy my attempts at putting things in their place. I try to keep them tame but they are so wild. So wild that I fall apart sometimes just thinking about putting the little house pieces back together again, after again and then again after that. I don’t have the stamina or the real desire to win that battle every moment of everyday. Between the clothes, the food, the random bits of paper and the ‘what is this thing?!’ I could spend all day everyday bent over picking up ‘debris'.
This particular day my four year old, Cannon, went into my drawers and pulled out my craft supplies. He peeled the backing off my magnet roll and jumbled up all my stuff. I have a thing with anyone touching the few things that I actually have organized and messing it up. I admit I went a little over-the-top crazy-eyed monster teeth at him. He got thrown in time out after a ridiculous mommy-hissy fit. While he’s bawling in the tiny chair all I could think was, “I need to get myself together here. I’m ruining my children’s lives.” Melodramatic much? After several minutes, when the tempers and emotions calmed down, I called him over to me. I crouched down and we said our ‘I’m sorrys’ and ‘I forgive yous’ and off he ran. The weight got lifted off our shoulders and we were back to being mama and boy. Not three minutes went by when he stops a few feet away from me and announces, “I like you.” I wanted to make sure I was hearing him right, so I said, “What did you say?” He said it again even louder, “I like you!” I couldn’t help the enormous smile that came over me as I said, “I like you too!” We just gazed lovingly into each others eyes, then he ran off to play again.
I stood there wondering, ‘Why does he like me?” I literally just exploded with anger and frustration at him. As I sat there thinking about it I realized he likes me not because I blew up at him but because I asked him for forgiveness. I admitted I was wrong then made it right again. He likes me because maybe he realizes I’m human, I don’t pretend to have it all together. Maybe he likes me because he knows he can’t do anything that is so bad that I won’t keep on immensely loving him, unconditionally. Maybe after all these four years he’s coming to grips that I’m not perfect, but I’m genuine. I’m not organized, but I try. I’m not rich, but I’m giving them all I have. Maybe he said that because he sensed I needed to hear that today. It made me feel like perhaps I’m not ruining their lives after all. Maybe I’m teaching them what it looks like to struggle well, to fall apart then get back up again. Maybe he was trying to tell me in so many words, “Everyone loves their mom but not everyone likes them.” He was choosing to like me, not out of obligation, but of choice. Or maybe he just wanted to tell me that he likes me because he simply does. J