Fits

Last week my oldest boy had his first basketball practice.  When I dropped him off, my youngest wanted to stay and watch, but I had errands to run and things to do, so I loaded us back in the car and tried to leave. 

T had a total meltdown.  I mean the kicking, screaming, shoe-throwing, face-smacking, red-faced, I hate everything kinda meltdown.  I was already driving down the hill (he was buckled in the car seat behind me) and just figured I’d keep driving to the store and hopefully he’d calm down by the time we got there.  30 minutes later and there was no sign of him slowing down.  He was still kicking, smacking his own face, and screaming “I WANT MY BUBBYYYYYY!!!!! ” (his name for Casey),  Honestly this was probably the worst fit I’d experienced with him to-date.  During the whole drive I kept trying to reason with him “It’s ok bud,  I love you, don’t be mad.”  And nothing.  He kept screaming.  I was getting pissed.

I’ll be honest, I momentarily contemplated pulling the rig over and giving him a swat on the behind.  But I didn’t, not that it would be wrong to do so, but there was something in me that said wait.  

So I pulled into the Wendy’s parking lot.  Took a deep breath.  Turned around and unbuckled T and pulled him into my lap.  His sobs stopped and he melted into my arms.  He laid on my chest and just shook and shook for a good five minutes.  I rubbed his back and told him I loved him, we’d see Bubby in a little bit, and it was ok.   Out of nowhere he sat up and smiled at me and said “Can I have chicken nuggets?”  

We went through the drive through and started back towards Bubby. (My errands had to wait) and then T started talking to me and my heart melted.

"Momma…..I was really sad.  You left Bubby! I was sad, but you touched me."

"I touched you?"

"Yeah….you hold me.  I’m not sad now"

His attitude the rest of the night was complete peace….silly, but peaceful.  

I was really convicted though, because my behavior, the patience, the slow hug and cuddles, the comforting words, that’s not always my behavior.  More often than not I’m short, impatient and tell my kids to be quiet, knock it off, quit being upset.  I’ve responded in anger instead of love more than I want to admit.  And I know I’ve missed out on many precious moments with my kids because of my own hurried behavior.  

It was humbling to me to realize that all my little guy needed was a hug from mom to still his worried little heart.  That sometimes two-year-old’s lack the self control and reason to handle something as emotionally traumatizing as leaving big-brother at a super awesome basketball practice, no big deal to me, but the end of the world to him.  

I hope I can slow down just a little, and hug a little more.