When it's all just a lot. When the stresses outweigh the light moments. When the mess overtakes the order. When the "have to's" far outnumber the "want to's."
Saturday was one of those days. I was home alone with the kids most of the day. They were loud and wild and, from time to time, at each other's throats. I had a birthday cake to make. And I was bombing at it. We had obligations and meetings and places to be and groceries to get.
And I was crabby. And I snapped at the kids. More than I should have. But I did. And they snapped at each other. And then it all happened again.
I was just in a funk.
That night, Noah had a party to go to and Eli crashed early.
So it was just Caleb and Brian and I for dinner. We talked. We laughed. We ate steak. It was simple and good.
Our kids rarely get to have a soda. But Caleb asked towards the end of the night if, because it was a special night with just him and us here, if he could have a Fanta orange soda.
We agreed.
He turned to head to the basement to grab one from the fridge.
And then he stopped for a minute and thought. He changed his mind and asked, instead, if he could go to bed and I could cuddle with him while he fell asleep.
I tried not to burst into tears on the spot. Here it was, the day I snapped at them and was crabby and had them in time outs. The day I was not the happiest of moms. The day that wouldn't go down in the books as one of my best. And here is was the day that he wanted to end his day cuddling with me.
I beat out Fanta.
He picked me.
As we lay there and I watched him fall asleep, I smiled and cried. My arm started to fall asleep and I tried to disengage from the cuddle and he grabbed my fingers and held them tighter. And so I let my arm tingle and go numb.
Thank you dear C for the reminder of why we do all this.
