Wednesday, January 9, 2013

A.C.S.

CONFESSION:  I've been soooooooooo lax.  

Ummm.  My kids have pretty much been running the house. 

Okay, okay, before you judge........................

I walked into the playroom a few days ago and saw that aforementioned sweetie-pies had confiscated my iPhone.  Took about two seconds to figure out beyond their giggles that I was being recorded.

Aye, yigh, yigh!

Of course I snatched it away from them.  How did they figure that out anyway?

"You aren't supposed to snatch, mommy.  It's rude.  You always tell us not to snatch. And we were trying to send Uncle Mike his birthday message anyway."

Okay then. 

Alright, let mommy record it. 



One. 

Two. 


Three.
 

"Happy birthday to you.  You live in a zoo.  You look like a monkey.  And you smell like one too!"

Whaaaaaa???????????????  Where on earth did you learn that?

Aye.  YIGH.  YIGH.  Kids........ 

"It's funny, mommy!  Send it!"

I did.  No harm, no foul.  No.  Discipline.

Later in the day, I was folding clothes and heard screams come from the playroom and a skin slap.  I caught the tail end of the action when brother pulled sister's hair. 

STOP IT.  STOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. 

But no time out.  No discipline.  They pretty much got away with it.  Not good.

I think I'm suffering ACS.  Short for "After Connecticut Syndrome."  It's kind of like I'm suspended in this state where I'm just so freaking grateful my children are alive.  So thankful I almost feel guilty.  So glad they are on this earth, breathing and walking and talking and fighting and playing and being silly that they can almost get away with anything.

We had the most amazing Christmas.  The ages of my children - perfect. So.  Much.  Fun.  All the magic, the Santa Claus myth, the elves, the holiday lore and tradition....   They are ripe for it all.  And every minute of it was joy.  But in the midst of that joy -at times- I would stop cold in my tracks and just suddenly feel weepy.  Lump in throat.  Could cry at a moment's notice.  Thinking of the photos of all those Newtown children whose parents at night can only hold a photo now.  Who only have memories to sustain them.

I'm not sure how to handle this.  And I know that being lax and lack of discipline is not the best route to go. But for a little while -just for each day- my time is going to be spent pouring love onto their precious, sweet little souls.  Holding them closer and tighter and more often.  Listening to what they have to say.  And watching - with recognition that this moment is all we have, and there is no guarantee tomorrow will come. 




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