It has been a MORNING. It has been a morning of missteps — small failures being collected and littered behind me forming a twisty, slipshod path where a straight line should have been.
This morning, my oldest missed the bus, which in itself can throw a wrench into a semi-established morning routine. This morning, I begrudgingly had to go outside and chase after our dog trying to beckon her inside while dodging and ultimately stepping in her dinner from last night. Did I mention it was raining? This morning, I found a freshly laundered Doc McStuffins smock in the dryer where my daughter’s white, button-down, uniform shirt should have been. Plus, the light was burned out in the laundry room so I had to use the flashlight on my phone, which I ultimately dropped behind the washing machine.
After driving Ave to school, Isla fell asleep on the way home. I gently placed her on the couch, where she napped for a bit, but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of the clock. On Tuesday mornings, she has music class. I was unsure what to do. This morning, she had awoken at 4:45, which is early for her. She hasn’t been sleeping well at night. She actually never sleeps well at night and I consider a good night’s rest to be a fluke. I gently tried to wake her, which turned into a 20 minute power struggle to get her her ready. There was crying, and a tantrum, and pleading, and bargaining. Tooth and hair brushing were abandoned for the sake of time and sanity. Peeling her out of her dress-up clothes and encouraging her to empty her bladder were two welcomed victories, and that was enough for me. Finally, we made it out to the car and were officially en route to music class. We would be late, but we would make it. I glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw that her eyes were heavy and beginning to flutter. I cheerfully reminded her about seeing her friends, singing, and playing instruments, to which she responded, “me tired.” I paused. We both knew what she needed.
I turned the car around, and we headed home. I decided that as much as a beneficial experience music class is, today it might be more beneficial to submit to rest. So that’s what we did, and I decided to let go. I let go of my disappointments, of my small failures. Despite a bumpy morning, Avrie went to school happy. Isla is going to get the rest her body needs. I came to terms with the fact that its okay if some things are missed. There will always be activities and opportunities and are missed. But there are other opportunities. Opportunities for care. Opportunities for compassion.
I did not want to carry her into music class kicking and screaming and helplessly tired hoping for the good things that it would provide. I’ve been there and done that. I had to carry my oldest out of story time on more than one occasion while she was having a meltdown. I don’t need to cross things off of my checklist. The list is fluid, The list can change. Being able to adjust is not just a skill, its a survival skill. Assessing and adjusting is a way of life, especially for a parent.
In conclusion, Isla is currently napping and getting rest that her body needs. Consequently, I had some time to record this experience. Being able to write is good for my soul. It somehow fills in spaces inside of me that I feel have been empty for a while. Things may have seemed bleak, but now they feel good.