Bowling at Bedtime

I love my children. I love snuggling with them. I love reading with them. I love talking with them . . . during daylight hours. Once we get to the time when they should be going to bed, I am done. I admit that putting to children to bed is my least favorite part of the day. So much so, that it was always Chris’ job to get them ready for bed. I figured, I had spent all day with them, and he had spent all day with adults, he should be the lucky one to get them cleaned up and ready for bed. He had an abundant amount of patience for all the requests for one more story, one more snuggle, one more whatever it was they wanted. When I had to be in charge of it, tears would ensue. Usually I was the one who ended up crying and feeling awful as a mom, because really, all I wanted was for them to be quiet and go to sleep.

The good news for me now, is that all of the children are old enough to take their showers, brush their teeth and read their own books. This has cut down a little on the stress. Until there are the nights I go upstairs . . . when they have all been kissed, hugged, and told “lights out,” and when I arrive upstairs the lights are all on, and they are WIDE awake, and it is way past their bedtime. Then the tired, cranky mom rears her ugly head, and yells at them “Why are all the lights on?” “Why are you still awake?” “Why am I tripping over wet towels and dirty clothes?” and other various rhetorical questions. Because really, if they answered me, I would just be more annoyed than I already am.

I have to admit, and I’m not proud of it, tonight was one of those nights. We have had a full week so far of a Girl Scout field trip, a school field trip, dance and baseball. It’s only Wednesday, which means we still have a school violin concert, a school kickball tournament, and a funeral to attend this week. It is one of those weeks where everything is being juggled to get everyone where they need to be, at a certain time. I know everything will work out the way it is supposed to, but it also means that the children need to go to bed and get some sleep mid week. They do still have school to get up for every morning!

So tonight, we had dance for one child and a baseball game for another. (My little one is a trooper who gets shuffled from place to place at times, and does it without complaint!) When the girls and I were finally able to settle in for the baseball game tonight we were treated to an exciting game. It was a close game to the very end, when our team ended with a victory of 15-14. My son was a filthy, muddy, huge grin wearing, talkative teen on the car ride home. Definitely one of the best games of the season, and the excitement and joy from him were palpable. Everyone was in a great mood for the car ride home.

But then . . . we arrived home. It was after 9:00 and it was time for everyone to hit the showers and get ready for bed. It was already well past bedtime for at least two of them. So, there are three of them, and only two showers. Arguments started over who had to shower first, who was going to use which bathroom, don’t use my towel, pick up your dirty clothes, etc. At this point, I don’t care which bathroom you are going to use, JUST. GET. IN. THE. SHOWER. And GO. TO. BED! I admit, my patience was being stretched thin. Finally, everyone was showered. Teeth were all brushed. One still had a bit of homework to do, and was diligently working on it.

It was now 10:00 pm. There was a thunderstorm that had thankfully waited until after the baseball game to hit, that was raging outside. Lightening lit up the skies and their rooms. I headed upstairs for the final kiss good night, and to make sure that they had indeed turned off the lights and gone to bed. When what to my not-very-surprised-eyes should I see? All the lights were on. Everyone was awake. (I thought only one was still awake and working on homework). My patience that had been stretched thin, now snapped. “Seriously people? Why are all the lights still on? Why are you still awake? It is after 10:00 at night and You. Need. Sleep!!!”

I walked into the room of my little one, about to comment about the wet towel on the floor (a pet peeve of mine). When I looked at her, she was holding a stuffed polar bear. It was one I had as a child. She was holding tight to it, and her eyes showed concern. It literally brought me to my knees. I kneeled by the bed. My little one can get worried during thunderstorms. (She’s not as bad as me . . . I hate thunderstorms!) It was reflected in her eyes, that the one happening at the moment was definitely a concern. There was a lightening strike followed closely by the boom of thunder. So I asked her the first question that popped into my mind . . . “Do you think that is Daddy up there bowling? With all the racket he is making, it sounds like he got a strike.” The smile was slow to come, but it did. We had a lively discussion about how God, Daddy and Mr. Campbell are probably up in Heaven together bowling, and GiGi is keeping score for them. But maybe GiGi got tired of all the noise, so now she is probably being creative and sewing. Or maybe she is painting. She did love being creative. Suddenly the storm didn’t seem so bad. The lights could now be turned off. After hugs and kisses, I picked up the wet towel and went to hang it up after I left the room.

I went to the next room. I didn’t even comment on the wet towel in my teen’s room. Instead, I gave him a kiss good night, and listened yet again to how amazing the game had been tonight. The smile and excitement in his voice made it all worth it. My frustration with the fact that my children were not in bed yet at 10:00 at night had ebbed. One more kiss good night, and I picked up the wet towel on my way out of the room to go hang it in the bathroom.

Back downstairs, I made my way over to the one diligently working on homework. There had been quite a bit of frustration over the assignments, and I knew that this one was way beyond tired. It was time to call it a night, and let her know that she could work on it in the morning. Sometimes we all reach a point, where we are being less productive because we are so tired. It wasn’t easy to convince her to stop working. I *might* be raising a slight perfectionist like myself. With a bit of talk, and a funny story from college (you know, the stories her brother and sister have not yet heard) I was able to convince her to go to bed.

So they are all finally in bed. They are all finally asleep. The storm has passed. Both the actual thunderstorm outside, and my internal storm of frustration I had with my children. Talking with my youngest seemed to flip a switch in my mind this evening. I was able to appreciate the moment that I had with each of my children. My mental state is much calmer. So here I am. Feeling compelled to write. It is as I am bringing this to a close that a quote I have read many times today practically smacks me in the head . . .

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou

It is so true. I won’t forget how my children made me feel tonight . . . I was a protector, a friend, and a confidant. Overall, it’s like I’m an okay mom! I can only hope that they felt the love I have for each of them.