Today's post is another great installment in the series Turn It wherein Miss Joy from Frock Files and I offer some perspective on life's challenges thrown our way. Check out more posts here, here, and here!!
Button pushing. Sitting and twisting that one nerve you have left. The last straw of patience.
You have had that morning or afternoon, haven't you?
These two little ladies could tell you the color, shape, size, and exact location of my buttons. Despite my best efforts, (seriously, how did they figure it out so fast?) they know how to tease, taunt, and aggravate one another and me. To their credit, they also know how to love and share like nothing else, too, but that's not this post.
Thursdays are our extra-busy, what-was-I-thinking-when-I-crafted-this-schedule kinda days. After school pick-up blends right into ballet one, then pre-ballet, that then overlaps with gymastics and somewhere in there we have homework, dinner, and bath/showers.
As you might predict, Thursday evenings can also be our crankiest, and that's not even taking into account children's behavior.
M and C were having a back and forth evening. M would call C a name, and C would lash out at M. M would cry, and C would tattle. For a solid two hours, it was a bad ping pong match of little girl banter at a high pitch frequency.
Typically my hubby is here for teeth brushing, prayers, and general calm, but this Thursday was an extra ordinary one, and he had a late night meeting.
After tucking my 3-year old son into bed, I walked over to the argument that I'd already heard brewing. I could not handle any more name calling, and I (had my own little tantrum) informed the girls that they were to go straight to sleep with no story (very rare). And that they'd better "learn how to treat each other a whole lot better."
I even had a dramatic huff (unintentional) as I closed the door. I really don't know where they get this melodrama. :)
It was quiet for a moment.
I stood outside the door and I listened. I heard the slow build up of tears coming from my younger daughter. She loves bedtime stories. And, moreover, she knew that I was upset ...they'd pushed just a bit too far.
And then I hear M say in her gentlest tone, "Sissy? Don't cry."
"Sissy? Do you want to hear a story?"
C: sniff "Yesss."
M: "Once upon a time there lived a magical princess and her sister. They lived in a beautiful castle way up on a hill.."
This time from me. My anger totally diffused. M went on to tell a lovely fairytale about the two of them saving the kingdom and living happily ever after.
I wasn't in the room, but I'm pretty sure little C fell right to sleep with a happy grin on her face. Her big sis who she loves and adores (and swats) created a whole world just for her.
And M, well, she felt her own magical powers to calm the storm.
And in the end, that's what they'll remember from the day - that extra special, one-of-a kind, sister moment. And if they had to turn all my buttons to get there
So be it.