Although I knew it wouldn’t happen, I hoped for a December
where we could just sit around and watch Christmas movies, days filled with
blaring Christmas music, fluffy white snow and building snowmen with my girls,
Christmas cookies, sleigh riding and driving around to see the lights. Essentially, a December filled with the
Christmas spirit.
There are no lights on our house, no snowmen and our
Christmas tree is dead.
You would think that this weekend I would practice patience,
more hugs, more kisses, more I love you’s.
You would think. You would think
that I could be a really great mom for the weekend? For the day?
You would think!
Don’t get me wrong.
On Friday, as I attended my work, each time I came across an image that
tore at me, I gulped. I literally
swallowed my tears. I ached as I
thought, that could have been me. That
could have been Brinley. Or London
I could be a really great Mom for the weekend? For the day?
You would think. Sure, I beamed
with joy when I saw them. Sure, I said, “HI!”
with enthusiasm in my voice. Sure, I
most certainly DID tell them I loved them, but I wasn’t TRULY thankful. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was impossible
for me to feel TRULY thankful because of all of the bitterness I was
caring. Bitterness towards too many
people, too many things, anger, pain, hurt.
Not just over this, over so many things and unfortunately I carried it
with me. I spent the weekend being too
short, too impatient, too little quality time, too little I love you’s, too little
compliments, too little kind words, too
little hugs, too little kisses, too much guilt, too much shame, too much pity. And I wallowed there. I was reminded so many times… my mother
reminded me that “someday my house would be clean, but I would be lonely.” My husband reminded me that my “life is
perfect,” but I ignored them and continued to wallow.
I promised Brinley we would build a snowman. It was my idea actually, but when we got home
at 11:00 at night, we did not built a snowman.
There were unkind tones in my voice.
And I let something happen to London
that I am too ashamed to speak of. And
the guilt and the shame grew.
Tonight I read Christmas books to Brinley (that’s one thing
I do right and we absolutely love it! We
have read Christmas books every night this month). And when my family was all asleep and I had a
second to ponder it all, I wept. For my
children and for 20 others. And shortly
after I was relieved by the sound of London’s cry, for I knew that I was given
a second chance. I walked into her room
and picked her up excited by the fact that she was sleepy. This is the only time she will let me cuddle
her or sit still long enough to hold her like a baby. That same stillness that leaves me longing
for a baby boy. I held her and when I
realized I could not put her down we wandered into the living room and from the
light of just our tree I looked so deep into her stunning blue eyes that I
could see the perfectness that lies beneath them. I kissed her cheeks, her nose her, her ears
and her eyes too many times to count. I
told her how much I loved being her Mom.
I asked her why she chose me? I
unzipped her jamies so that I could feel her heart beat. I listened to her breath and felt the rise and
fall of her chest, I held her hand and I tickled her palm. I sang to her and at the top of the hour a
little clock that my friend had just given me charmed. It plays a peaceful Christmas tune every hour
and she danced in my arms. She loves to
dance! And that’s when I felt it. Essentially, my home WAS filled with the
Christmas spirit. I had just been too
bitter to notice it. Reluctantly I laid
her down and found myself in Brinley’s room.
I tried not to wake her as I climbed into bed next to her, but I
did. I told her it was “just me” I just
came to “snuggle her” and since she’s
awake I might as well take the opportunity to tell her how much I loved her and
that she better not ever forget it.
Brinley is used to me waking her up at night to proclaim my love to her,
London however
is not. You see, part of this guit I carry with me is because having two kids
is not the same as having one. I can’t
do all of the things with London
that I did with Brinley, so I feel guilty.
And London ,
as Brinley says it, “is a lot of work” so it does take away time with Brinley
and I probably rely on her help too much so I feel guilty. When Brinley was just a baby I would go wake
her up in the middle of the night and just hold her, sometimes lay her in bed
with us for a minute simply because I missed her. Yeah, I don’t do that with London .
Not because I don’t miss her or love her equally as much as I love
Brinley down to the very last sliver, but because I’m tired now. I’m busy now.
And so I feel guilty.
Needless to say, tonight I am grateful. For a second chance to get it right. For this time that I spent sincerely loving
my children with everything I have in me.
And no matter how many times I get it wrong nobody gets to take that
away from me. I can still love them
through all of my flaws and imperfections.
Although I may not be the best Mom in the world, I’m the best Mom in the
world for them and I’m thankful God allowed me the opportunity to be their Mom.
I’m thankful for every second I have spent with them.
And tomorrow I will send my kindergartner to school, TRULY thankful
for the chance.
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