When the clock strikes 9pm at my house, you can almost hear the cherub angels singing a chorus of “Hallelujah” from Heaven. It is at this time when everyone in my house except ME is in their beds asleep for the night. I use this time for a myriad of things…
– catch up on T.V. shows I have recorded on my DVR
– secretly raid our pantry and snack baskets for chocolate
– read a book (my current read has been quite inspirational as of late)
– check and re-check all my social media
– fold the laundry (rarely happens)
– clean (almost never happens)
My husband usually puts Dylann to sleep and then goes to bed himself since he has to get up really early for work. I’m in charge of putting Devynn to sleep, which on most nights is fairly easy since she gets milk-wasted after I nurse her.
Occasionally, Dylann has a hard time going to bed and cries out for me. When this happens, my husband tries to redirect her attention until she gives up and submits to her tiredness. On this night, however, she was extremely persistent. I could hear her crying from downstairs. I get a text from my husband (is it weird that we communicate via text when we are both at home?) asking me to come upstairs to help calm her down.
At this point I walk up the stairs already annoyed that my personal quiet time is being interrupted. After spending the whole day with your kids, the moments you get to yourself are like gold.
I laid down next to her and she happily snuggled in between my husband and me. She even put her arms around us both and gave us multiple kisses. She asked for Devynn, and I told her she was in her crib.
Devynn sleeping, Mommy?
Yes, she’s sleeping already.
Oh…yeah, she’s sleeping.
She gave us more hugs and kisses. It was as if her world was complete and you could tell she was happy. So cute. Now hurry up and go to sleep so mommy can have her “me” time.
For some reason she still had a hard time sleeping. I grew increasingly annoyed as she tossed and turned and said random things trying to keep herself awake. I let out a huge SIGH. Maybe if she saw how irritable I was she would feel bad and settle down. She turned to me and put her arms around my neck, her face almost touching mine.
Patience, Mommy. Patience.
Her little voice was so soft, yet her words were strong.
Patience, Mommy. Patience.
My daughter says many things your average 2 year old wouldn’t say, but this took me by surprise. Did I teach her that word? How did she know how to use it in context? Can she always tell when I am irritated at her?
Cue the mommy guilt.
I spend my days teaching her what to do and what not to do. How to play nicely, when to use your indoor and outdoor voice, how to hold a spoon and fork. I remind her to say “please” and “thank you” and to behave when we are out in public. I show her how to be gentle with her sister and how to put away her toys.
In one instance, with one word, one little reminder, she teaches me how to be a better mom.
Thanks for the reminder, Dyls. Mommy will try.