It was just one of those chaotic moments. I was trying to make dinner, figure out an algebra question, focus on my 8 year old with hurt feelings and address a concern that my older daughter needed a haircut like RIGHT NOW!
Okay, so Hebrew school had just ended (which takes place at our dining room table) and the fact that 7 other children left my home should have welcomed in a new calm and sense of quiet…
Well…there was very little of ‘calm and quiet’.
Chaim Boruch was having one of his frustrating moments.
He was crying, screaming, tearful and frustrated. Very frustrated.
I sat opposite him as he was in his high chair pushing away all offers of his dinner.
I tried singing to him. I tried to hug him. I tried to encourage him to show me a sign so I would understand…
It is these very moments that I feel that overflowing ache in my heart, it’s the hurt that I did not understand what he wanted or needed…it is facing the very core of his inability to communicate and my inability to understand.
I face it every day, yet mostly, when he is happy and calm.
There is still the wonder that envelopes me as I look into his eyes…
What was his day like in school? Did he miss me? Did he have fun playing outside? Did he get his feelings hurt?
How much wonder and longing is in my heart?
And here in my own home, secure, safe and full of love and comfort, I could not understand my son.
He eventually calmed down, ate his dinner and then the two of us escaped into my room where i read him books and I could tell him the feelings in my heart.
“I am sorry Chaim Boruch that you had a hard day. Mommy has hard days too, and sometimes I just sit down and cry. I hope you truly know that I wanted to make things all better, I wanted to understand, I wanted to help you…I’m sorry that all I could do was wipe away your tears and speak softly.”
After “our” little chat, I think we both felt better. He gave me one of stunning smiles and we hugged.
Yes. Mommies have hard days too.
Good Night Chaim Boruch,
Tomorrow will be a better day.
I love you.
Love Mommy.