Every mom has great mom days, minutes and moments. I kind of live for these moments. These are the times that make me feel like I’m really rocking my job as a stay at home mom. For instance, the times when I get the paint set out and sit with my girls; we spend time learning colors and shapes, or when I let them help bake cookies (even though it adds extra mess and time). Then there are times when I do a passing job in the mommy-ing department. These are the days when my kids watch slightly more than the recommended amount of television, but my house looks super clean. It’s a balance. And then other times I totally fail in my mom role. Like, no good, horrible bad mom-moments. Moments when mommy loses her cool, by no fault of the kids and makes things worse, not better. Sometimes these bad mom-moments even make my four year old look like a mature tiny human and me look like a tantrum throwing toddler. This is a short story about one of those moments, and how they truly humble me to my core.
A few weeks ago, my girls and I were getting ready to go swimming. I was rushing frantically around the house trying to gather all the necessary supplies; goggles, diving toys, towels, puddle jumpers and water shoes. All the things required to take two non-swimmers swimming with one adult. It was my first time swimming at the Rochester Athletic Club and I wanted to be extra prepared, since it was also my first time taking them swimming sans my husband; I was a little high strung to say the least. There was a small window between the opening of the pool, lunch time and nap time. And most moms know that if you push kids too hard they become miniature monsters, who you may literally have to drag through parking lots filled with oh so many helpful onlookers. But, I digress. The point is, I was stressed, moving fast and anxious about my timeline.
Finally, I was getting myself ready. I typically wear glasses, but for pool days I always wear contacts. And not just any contacts, super fancy, super expensive daily contacts, because they are really the only kind my extremely dry eyes will allow. When I lose one of my contacts, in my mind, it’s like losing one million dollars. So, there I was carefully putting in my super nice contacts with both of my daughters next to me in our very small bathroom. One of the girls was sitting/standing on the toilet, hovering over me and the other was standing on the ground staring at my careful process. And of course, my contact dropped. With one contact in and one on the floor I began searching for my contact. While I was searching, I was yelling (or maybe just sternly speaking?) to my kids. I believe these are a few of the things that came out of my mouth; “See girls? You guys made mommy drop her contacts!”, “Mommy isn’t going to be able to swim anymore because YOU lost her contacts”, “Timeouts for everyone, because mommy’s contacts are lost forever,” and other really awesome mom things.
After about three minutes of searching and yelling I told my kids they had to leave the bathroom. As my four year old walked past me, she turned around, pointed to the ground and said in the most kind and gentle voice, “Mommy, isn’t that your contact?”
Children have a way of humbling their parents in the most chaotic mom-moments. This was absolutely the case in this instance. I felt terrible, grateful, embarrassed and thankful all at once. It was just a vivid reminder to me that even when we think our kids are the problem, they are sometimes part of the solution.
