Sunday, June 3, 2012
Diamonds in the Rough
This weekend, Hank and I had the opportunity to go to Carmel overnight, thanks to Gram for her generous monetary Christmas gift, and Karen and Jordan, who watched the kids. I was reminded how important it is for us as parents to get away just the two of us. It's good for our relationship, but it's also good for the kids. In that we have a break from them and come back ready to face them again. Sam was a little standoffish at first. He gets angry when either of us leaves him for too long. But then he was back to his sweet self, hugging and giving air kisses. I told Henry I missed him while we were away and he happily said, "I missed you, too, Mommy!" and then asked Karen for more corn flakes. But that was yesterday. Today we are back to normal. Henry is in his bed working himself into a frenzy because I wouldn't give him his sticker book to take to bed. In reality, if I had, he would be working himself into a frenzy about something else. Sam did a lot of throwing. He ran around to the back of a chair when I wanted to change his diaper and pressed himself against the wall where I couldn't reach him. Those of you who have followed me on Facebook for a few years might remember Henry jumping off the couch after I told him not to, and hitting the ottoman eye first. Or Rose and Sam running toward oncoming traffic in different directions at Fulton Mall. Or the ash incident. But you also might remember Henry spontaneously saying, "I love you, Mommy." Or scratching my itch, even though I did not ask him to. Or Sam throwing his arms around me, or stroking my face, looking into my eyes. Or Henry trying to follow Daddy to work, picking up his toy laptop, kissing me on the head, and saying, "Bye, Mommy." Sam has brought me countless books, looked up at me, lifted his arms, and said, "Up" to read him a story. Henry has shared countless plane, helicopter, bug, train, and bus sightings with me. Although I know mathematically it doesn't seem possible, somehow the very small, few and far between moments like that outweigh the huge, constant struggles and disobedience. Even though I want to scream more than I want to laugh, somehow it works out in the end. Those sweet moments are like little diamonds, and the every day grind is like ore. Those diamonds are so valuable that you are willing to mine through the rough to get to it.