Tough

When the going gets tough, the tough brews a cup of tea and sits down with a magazine.

Makenna and I had planned to experiment with her camera for my birthday two weeks ago. However, I am far more comfortable behind the lens and wear a haggard, non-photogenic look most often. Yoga pants don't exactly represent the way I want to be remembered even though they make up my mom uniform more days than not. Friday I decided to invest a few minutes in myself and wore real clothing. Makenna noticed and offered to take my picture. I told her she could only capture this specific moment because I didn't want to get up. She laughed and suggested I never look this relaxed so it would be an odd snapshot. It was unusual but I briefly appeared this settled on Friday and would appreciate more similar opportunities. Someday I may tolerate a real photo session.

It was a tough week around here. Erin walked out on her new job at Amazon. She had not yet followed up with CPS but returned to the comfort of Subway. Her choices created some stress in our home. I had four extra kiddos most of this rainy week and whereas they were well behaved and as sweet as usual, they added a lot of energy and volume. On top of that, my son has become a tiny terrorist of sorts loudly demanding his way at every turn. A few extra teens were here to witness said behavior the other evening and took it upon themselves to recommend spanking as a form of discipline. At that moment, the tough took a solitary walk to contain the steam that was building behind her ears. I am a direct person and struggle to find polite ways to tell someone they are being rude when they sit at my dinner table and tell me how I should be parenting my children. I know what kind of week my son had. I was there for every moment he was unsettled by the energy level. I was there when he was injured. I was there when those same teens promised a baseball game and didn't follow through. I was present when plans were changed and promises were broken. He is four. He needs compassion and words to express how he's feeling. He needs attention that isn't divided a dozen other ways. After my walk, rather than tell the teens how their choices aided in Ty's melt down, I shut myself in his room with toys and let him lead the way in imaginative play.

Even though this wasn't a particularly great week for Ty, he did have some redeeming moments. Last night, we were waiting on Erin in the mall. We'd thrown every penny I had into the fountain and ran out of entertainment that wasn't going to include him swimming in said fountain so we went looking for his sister. We found her checking out in a store. Ty was flopping and dancing all over the place to the point I finally recommended he go to the bathroom. The hurt expression that crossed his face in that instant was priceless as he exclaimed, "But Mom! These are my best dance moves!"

Yesterday he fell off the bed and was crying pretty hard. Once he calmed down, I asked him how he fell and he declared he was standing on a ball on the bed! "Buddy! I have repeatedly told you not to do that or you could get hurt!"

"But Mom, I do it lots of times and only got hurt once."  This will not be our only shiner and I may need character witnesses when CPS is called to investigate.