Patrick is now 3. I find myself needing to get him out of the house once a day. It doesn't matter where we go- the store, the library, or even the car wash all provide a reprieve from the cabin fever that has truly set in. As a 3 year old, Patch is flexing his metaphorical muscles as an independent human and his actual muscles as he is now capable of injuring me if things get out of hand.
A few weeks ago, on President's Day weekend, we spent time at Lava Hot Springs with Scott's family. Just days before we left, Scott made the scary decision to leave his job at Onset Financial after working for them for about 6 months. I was giving him some time to work on job applications and figure out what is next so, Patrick and I headed over to a new "bouncy place" to meet up with Mary and Caro before leaving for the weekend in Lava. We had a blast expelling some energy and I purchased a punch pass for 10 visits to the jump place- $5/kid and parents are free (whaaaaa? GREAT deal) Anyway, we had a lovely time. Patrick loves his friends Scarlett and Lucely (how he pronounces Lucy) and James and Olyvia.
We slid down the slide all together several times and had a splendid time of bouncing on the huge inflatable pillow at the center of the gym. Anyway, we were about ready to leave and walked over to put on our shoes and coats when Patrick insisted I give him his new Thomas the train toy that he had just gotten from Kathie. He demanded and I insisted that he ask me nicely. That sent him into a spiral that included him hitting me for the toy and writhing away when I tried to put on his shoes. The whole thing escalated to me walking out the door with him holding onto my leg as I dragged him across the floor. Knowing that I couldn't do that out in the parking lot, I carried him out of the place fireman style and could feel the other moms there cheering me on like "you got this girl!" "we've all been there!" It was rough. When we got out to the car, he kept insisting on getting that toy and I kept insisting that he ask me nicely which he didn't want to do. I buckled him in his seat, him fighting me the whole time, and he immediately unbuckled. I figured...we're in the parking lot, here is a teaching moment. I began to back out. He knows that not being buckled in a moving car is dangerous and that he can't unbuckle his seatbelt until mom takes out the keys. Well, he was very concerned when I started driving. So concerned that he began screaming at me to stop the car, hopped up to the front and grabbed my face scratching me along the cheek. He drew blood and I was losing my patience with this particular tantrum. I kept my cool really well until that happened. I yelled at him to sit down and calm down saying that this behavior was unacceptable. I would not be giving back the Thomas until he learned to ask me nicely and treat me nicely. I buckled him back in before we got on the main road and drowned out his tantrum until we got home using some music.
It was rough.
I needed a cleansing shower when we got home. I also needed to show my normally very sweet boy some serious love when we got home. We talked about what had happened and both apologized to each other.
*****
I have a set of china tea cups that my grandmother collected and passed down to me. They hang in my kitchen on the wall and are a delightful reminder of my grandmother who was a nearly perfect woman. A few years ago as I was putting Christmas decorations away, I temporarily hung my advent calendar on one of the tea cup hooks. As I went to put the advent calendar away, I neglected to use two hands and the string caught on the saucer and it came tumbling to the ground and shattered into about 5 different pieces. I grabbed some super glue and managed to piece the thing together without a single chip missing. What luck I thought.
About two years later, Patrick was just an infant and I was grabbing his car seat, my diaper bag, my computer bag, and him to head out the door. I was in a rush to get to work on time and whipped his blanket up in the air along that same wall beneath the tea cups. Somehow, that blanket caught the SAME. SAUCER. in just the right way and again, it came crashing to the ground; this time breaking into even more pieces. I gathered up all the pieces I could find and glued them together again.
There's now a small chip in the plate but, I hide it well behind the cup that hangs just in front. I think it looks pretty good for all that it's been through.
I feel a little bit like my saucer. I'm valuable, delicate, and beautiful. I have meaning for my family and friends. I'm so far from perfect as a mother (and wife, daughter, sister, and friend) but luckily, my son and everyone else seems to love me and keep me around anyway. I make mistakes and I apologize. I try to be open to corrections and critiques. Life has been challenging me a great deal over the last couple of years. I have some cracks and a tiny bit of me is missing because of my sweet baby that we lost in November. As life has challenged me and I've pieced myself back together I realize that perhaps I'm even more beautiful now. Now that I'm more than just valuable, delicate, and beautiful. I have stories to tell. Like my plate, if you walk by me, you won't likely be able to tell but upon closer inspection, you may see my cracks and chips and you'll know that I too have fallen and shattered and yet, I have managed to put the pieces together again....and again.
