As I mentioned yesterday, the death of little Layla Grace has jolted me a bit.
It prompted me to realize that sometimes I get so overwhelmed with the other things and forget the whole point of why I am staying home to raise my children to begin with – to raise them in the way they should go.
I once read, God only knows where since I have read so much that I’ve addled my brain, that mothers always have a love for their children but can sometimes lack a compassion for them. While I hate to admit this, I am at times guilty. I want some time to read. To write. To not have to talk to anyone. To just be.
So I might have a shorter fuse at night (am I the only one?) because that time for me is coming and I just want to get there.
Compassion is out the window, friends. I get a little barkier and just want them to go to bed already.
After returning Solomon to our home after our “Mommy and Me” class on Wednesday and picking up Susannah to take her to preschool, I had planned to run some errands BY MYSELF.
But then there was Sawyer. All dimpled with black eyes and long lashes looking at me with a sad face.
He was the only one who would not be going anywhere that day. He was to spend most of the day with our dear Miss Betty, who we adore but is still not as exciting as getting out on the town. No one would be.
“May I go with you?” he asked.
How on earth could I say no?
After explaining to him that he would need to be patient while mommy shopped for some new spring clothes, he excitedly set out to put on his shoes and grab his VERY LOUD dragon to take with us. I didn’t care.
He was overjoyed. So was I.
Sawyer is my middle child. I refer to him in conversation often as the “middleman”.
Of our three, he is the most spirited and while I hate to admit this, the most challenging. He stretches and grows me as a person more than I ever thought possible.
JJ and I are often at our wit’s end with him. We love him dearly. Yes. I would not change him in any way. He is fearfully and wonderfully made.
But I sometimes worry that I am not reaching him in the way he needs to be reached. Not showing my love in the way he receives it. Not having enough patience for his almost-three-year-old boy energy. The list goes on.
Part of it is the dreaded “mommy guilt” on my behalf. Since he was only six months old when I found out I was going to have another baby, I have always felt like Sawyer was gypped out of his babyhood.
But today was all about spending time with just him. I rarely get one-on-one time with him so in a snap decision, I decided that he would skip his usual afternoon nap and spend the day with mama.
We had a ball. I fell in love with my son all over again.
Since my daughter is the one that tends to be like Lucy from the Peanuts gang, Sawyer often gets talked over and told what to do. But not today.
We laughed and giggled. The answer was “yes” to everything.
He was wonderful as I tried on clothes in the dressing room. He told me I looked like Ariel. I think it was his way of saying he thought I was pretty. Maybe not. But I’m going with it.
He got a new car for being so good.
He asked repeatedly if we could go the park. It was 65 degrees today. Our first warm spring day. Yes we can, my dear boy. Yes.
Just the two of us at the park when it is usually all four of us, sometimes five when Daddy is home, with no one to compete with for my attention.
He went wild on the tractor he loves.
We walked on the nature paths and found a big stick. He wanted to walk over the bridge. I said yes.
After we were tired and had had enough, he asked for Superman ice cream at the Silver Dipper.
I said yes.
In the car on the way home I said to him, “I love you, Sawyer. You are my special boy.” To which he replied “I love you, Mommy. You are my special mommy.”
My heart melted.
We must be on the right track. We must be doing something right.
When we returned home, I noticed that our first crocus had popped its little head out of the ground.
A new season is upon us.
Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not turn from it.