The Moments That Pass You By

Tonight our routine was thrown a little out of whack.

Each Tuesday night I rush home from kickboxing just in time for Jeff to head out the door for basketball.

Since we knew our time frames were crunched a little more than usual tonight,  we had already planned for the boys to spend a little time at Nana's house in between our passing.

Kaeden was ecstatic to be able to take his Nintendo DS over to play with Allie. He talked about going over hours before he was actually scheduled to go.

For whatever reason our timing wasn't as off as we had imagined, and I showed up to Nana's to pick up the boys just as Jeff was pulling out from dropping them of.

Naturally, Kaeden was upset and fought back tears telling me, "Mom, I got here too early!  I not even really get to play yet."  I smiled, knowing that he meant that he had gotten there late, and agreed that he could have 15 minutes to play.

Getting Kaeden to leave Nana's has always been a battle, but now that he is getting older he is getting so much better about allowing me to set boundaries [or time frames], and him sticking to them.  I'm seriously loving that about my little boy.  No longer are there battles to get him to come home.  Instead, I give him a little bit of leeway, provide a  structure of what is going to happen, and then when I say it's time to go home, he's usually right on board.  It's amazing how our children grown and change.

Since we were returning from Nana's at the time that Kaeden usually climbs into bed, I told him that he wouldn't get his traditional 30 minutes to eat and play before having to go to bed.  I also explained that as soon as we got home, we had to brush teeth and go to bed.

He was obedient, but as crazy as the moments before bed can be, there was a little bit of foot-dragging, and repeated requests to "Hurry up Buddy, we've got school tomorrow!"

Finally I got him in bed.  We exchanged a few conversations as I passed by his bed to grab Carter pj's or to throw a toy in the bin.

In one passing Kaeden sits up and fighting back tears says, "Wait Mommy!  I forgot something at Nana's."  Now this is a usual tactic Kaeden tries to get us to take him back.  It never really works, but he tries it none-the-less.  I asked him what he had forgotten, and he hesitated to tell me, so I figured that I was right about it just being another ploy to waste a little time, or rush him back.

But there was something about those tears he continued to fight back.  Those tears that caused his face to contort in ways that I love and hate all the same time. I love the sweet innocence of the raw emotion he's showing, but I hate to see my little boy in such honest pain.  It's this expression where he's not whining by any means, but more trying to fight back the emotion of the pain at hand.  Like I said, it's absolutely amazing and heartbreaking all at the same time.  Oh and his eyes!  Oh how those Disney Princess eyes give away so much!

After further pressing, I got out of him that the item he had forgotten was "Rocky," a little rock with what looked like a smiley face on it.  Not 100% convinced that I got the story right, I promised him that I would text Allie and make sure she put it in a safe place for us to pick up the next day.

Thankfully Allie knew exactly what he was talking about and promised to keep it safe.

To calm his nerves I went into his room and read her response aloud.  I was surprised to look up and see that he was fighting back the tears more than ever now.

I asked, "Bug? What's wrong?  Why are you still sad?"

And with a strained voice he said, "Nuffing!" It's nuffing!"

I continued, "Bug, if you are sad, you can tell me.  It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to tell someone about it.  It makes me sad to know you are sad, and I'll always be here to just listen.  If you ever want to tell me about being sad, I won't be mad, I won't ask questions. I'll just listen to why your sad and try to make you happy."

At this point the tears started streaming down his face.

And in turn, tears streaked mine.

I'd like to blame the raging hormones I have the pleasure of dealing with this week, but nope.

It was this moment with my son that brought the tears to my eyes.

This amazing moment with such an innocent little boy.

He never told me why he was sad.

I suspect that the combination of being overly tired, and the relief he felt knowing that "Rocky" would be okay was enough to set him over the edge.

I may never know.

But what I do know is that in that moment we had,

that moment of raw emotion,

that moment where I had the opportunity to explain to my child that I will always be there for him

and that as his mother his sadness is inherently mine,

this moment I will NEVER forget.

Much like the night when he was only a few days old and I stood over his bassinet in the middle of the night just bawling.

Jeff came into the room, and saw his newly born son fast asleep and his hormonal wife standing over the bassinet with tears streaming down her face.

Wondering whatever could be the problem, Jeff gently asked me what was going on.

And I couldn't explain it.

But I tried.

With a squeaky voice and snotty nose I tried to put into words the true love I felt for my child in that moment.

A love for someone who had been a part of my life for less than a week, but who I already felt this overwhelming need to protect, love, teach, and provide for.

I was less than a week in, and I already felt like I was failing him.  He was so perfect, and there was no way I was matching it.

I remember staring at Kaeden and telling Jeff that I just didn't understand how people ever turned away from their loving parents.  How someone could dislike their mother or father so much that they could say awful things, and do awful actions against them.

And Jeff,

being as wise as he is,

promised me that Kaeden would never do that to me.

And in that moment.  I knew it to be true.

I don't have any doubts that there will be rough patches.  Nor do I kid myself that there won't be those times down the road when those dreaded words - I HATE YOU- will be uttered.

But I know in my heart, and I knew that night, as I did tonight, that Kaeden will always love me.

He will always have the sweetest spirit.

One that keeps him innocent.

Keeps him kind.

And one that will ultimately always fill his heart with love, and always allow him to see the best in others.

I will forever cherish nights like this.

Nights where I am reminded that I was entrusted with one of the most gentle spirits created.

This kid is truly something else.

As our tearful moment in his room wound down, Kaeden leaned over his bed rails to give me a hug and told me one more time, "Mom, you are the best Mom ever."  This is a new phrase he's picked up over the last few weeks, and needless to say, I can't get enough of it.

Still a little overcome with emotion and my desire to truly take away the pain of whatever was eating at my little guy, I absent mindedly replied back, "You are the best mom ever, too."

We continued to hug quietly, knowing something wasn't right, and then broke out into a fit of the most genuine belly laughter ever.

All is well that ends well.

I sure love this little boy.

Always have.

Always will.