Is it just me, or do you find that when your spouse and you are deep in discussion, your children tend to gather 'round to find out what's going on? It's the same the minute my attention is no longer at their disposal. The phone rings, a neighbor comes to the door, the dog barf on the kitchen floor: they're all means of limiting the amount of attention I can shower on my children.
I will confess, quite reluctantly I might add, that there are times where I welcome these distractions to get away from the constant pulling of my sleeve, repeated calling of my name, and the tattling that begins from the moment my kids' cute little piggy toes hit the carpet. And, to add insult to injury, the more they nag me when I'm otherwise distracted, the more I will continue to shoot down their attempts to draw me away. Mamma needs to 'shut er down' for a while sometimes.
We've all been there. Our own little sanctuary of peace. You know the place about which I speak - the bathroom. They know what you're doing in there. They understand the concept of privacy, because you've pounded it into their heads over and over again. Why then, do you still get faces pressed up against the door, heavy breaths heard through the cracks in the door jam, and fingers desperately reaching under the door? Why must they disrupt these few moments of solitude in your day? I think they fear that they might miss out on Mommy's best moment. They want to be there when you light up the room with your smile, and they get to see that twinkle in your eye. Little do they know, or care to know, that those few stolen (wait, necessary) moments in the bathroom are DEFINITELY not going to be the highlight of your day, but you have to love their optimism.
I have told my kids on countless occasions prior to my engaging in something to not bother me unless they are on fire or physically holding an eyeball. Back in January, I was in my church's talent show, and needed to practice my routine at the local YMCA. I was twirling the baton and needed to get the routine set to music, so every time my children interrupted my process, I had to back up and start over. It can be very frustrating. In my 2nd week of competition, I told my twins, who had accompanied me on this practice trip, that I was not to be interrupted. They could play in the studio with me, but not bother me.
Why, you ask, would a mom tell her kids such things? Well, because if I don't lead with this disclaimer, my children will interrupt me to tell me they found a booger on the wall, have a freckle on their left pinky, or that they decided to wear their monkey panties today. I have to draw the line somewhere. I just wanted 45 minutes to an hour of relatively uninterrupted practice time.
On this occasion, I was about 45 minutes in, and things were going well when my raven haired twin was trying to console my flaxen haired twin. Thinking they had argued over something, and feelings were hurt, I did my best to forge onward. The ruckus continued, so finally I stopped and asked what was going on. My flaxen haired twin had managed to drop a 5lb dumbbell on her left hand squishing two fingers. She was crying silently. When I asked her why she didn't come get me, she replied, "But mom, you didn't want us to bother you".
FAIL!
We quickly wrapped up the practice session, headed to the front desk to obtain an ice pack, and headed home. On the ride home in the car, I told them that such injury did warrant an interruption. It was discovered later that night that she had broken one finger - splitting the bone at the tip, and ultimately ended up losing two fingernails. Poor thing.
I will say the policy is still effect, but my children now better understand when to interrupt.
No comments:
Post a Comment