Saturday, October 20, 2012

False Alarm

I'm still- 2 days later- trying to process how 'things' have the capability to turn to crap so quickly.
Thursday morning my kids beat my alarm clock. While that's not a completely rare occasion, it is a rare occasion for me to set my alarm clock at the unbeatable hour of 5:45. For them to beat that...unheard of.
So I woke up with the invitation to start the day pissed.
At 5:30 am.
But I consciously declined. Instead, I simply stripped Deeter from the party cuna- aka Kaia's crib- turned the light back off and hauled him out in football-tucked position. We convened in my bed and it was only minutes before I gave into Kaia's beckoning and cuddled her little biscuits right up with us as well. And not only was I not pissed, I may have slightly been enjoying it. Kaia was calmly relaxed on my chest- as rare as the 5:45 alarm clock-, Deeter was not being demanding but instead accommodating- as rare as my kids beating the 5:45 alarm clock. Maybe that was caused my accommodating attitude or maybe vise versa. I don't know.
We all continued in this mood, the two big boys quickly joining us.
We conquered the premature wake-up call, the morning routine, and were almost out of the driveway. The two boys stood facing each other, in an apparent stand-off. I remained in the shadows, letting this be a real-live practice of the things I'd been trying to teach them. About communicating, and using their words, and working things out.
My patience seemed to have unwavering endurance when....
Dallin swung his helmet at Porter's head, with all the fury of a frustrated 7 year old.
And then came my reaction....
trumping their heated stand-off, including the delayed annoyance of getting up at the crack of dawn,  dismissing the hopeful principles of using words and having good communication and working together.

It's interesting how a mere 20 minutes of upheaval can overturn previous hours of discipline and patience and peace.
While the boys were at school, I spent the hours contemplating what I was going to do.
How I was going to put into practice something that I tell them time and time again...

It's not about the mistake. I don't care that you made a mistake. We all make mistakes. What matters is....
what we do with our mistakes.
That's what's important. 

The seeds I'm trying to plant, I'm sure those are good and will one day be fruitful.
But as the saying goes,

You can't underestimate the power of example.

And this is where my kids challenge me to better myself and step up to the plate again and again and again...

1 comment:

  1. Dear Gay,
    I love California. I love to laugh. I'm a recovering diet coke addict. I miss the beach. I saw your post on Melissa's blog The life of a not so ordinary wife. I'm looking forward to some future laughs from your blog. Esther Norine Designs


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