"In bed at last. Tucked in and snug. The engines snores a final chug." As one of Cooper's favorite books says, here I am, at last. It's been one of those days. You know, the kind that starts out all wrong, continues all wrong, but maybe ends a little bit ok. The kind of day where I wish I could go back, erase all the angry moments, the yelling, and the little (big) fights between me and Cooper. I'm not sure what it was about today, but I did not do my part as patient mother today. It started with waking up a tad too early after a not-so-restful night's sleep and then an early morning battle over wether or not a nose syringe could in fact be a toy. I feel ridiculous even typing that because normally, YES a nose syringe is indeed a toy. But not today. I didn't feel like picking up the shredded syringe an hour later after Cooper would have, no doubt, left it laying around for Sadie to devour. So I said no. And not gently. Like I sometimes do when my patience wears thin. I just wish it hadn't worn so thin, so early. That was NOT his fault. It was mine. And so the day continued, with both of us acting like two-year olds. I'm suppose to be the adult, right? I'm not sure why but some days I just can't climb up on top and see what really matters most. Like being a thoughtful, respectful and patient mother to Cooper.
And tonight, just as I excused myself from the nighttime routine, to put myself to bed early, Cooper brought me "our" book (My Truck Is Stuck). Momma read (sounds like from his lips- "amomma wreah"). And my heart is simultaneously melting and breaking into a million pieces. He's so forgiving, so adorable, so elastic. It's like all of the yuck from the day never even happened. He's moved on. So I read, and I try to move on. The anger has all washed away and I'm sitting there holding him, breathing through the hair on top of his head. Loving every bit of him. I can't imagine why on earth I'd ever raise my voice at my little guy. The reality is, is that it happens. Because I get tired, frustrated or stressed. Real or imagined. And the impatient momma comes out.
I'm grateful for the bedtime that we had this evening. Thanks for being so forgiving, little man. Tomorrow is another day. And I promise that I will always keep trying to be a better Mom than I was today, yesterday or the day before that. I love you.
You. Adorably eating a pah-ooh-oohl.
Twelve Days of Boots: Day 7 by The Pioneer Woman
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