Jon and I have been ridiculously stressed about the possibility of purchasing a new home. We have been wheeling and dealing with the sellers for about a month, and a deal is now coming to fruition. And, of course, we are second-guessing it all. Very normal reaction, I am sure. You get attached to your home. Jon and I spent our wedding night in this house. Maria and Mario came to this home after their births. Cy and I took off on our long runs from this house….
Our realtor/neighbor Dave came over two nights ago to talk to us about moving forward with a final bid that would seal the deal. We sat on the porch with him biting our nails and asking a lot of questions. Maria and Mario played in the bath tub upstairs. They yelled for me to come up within two minutes of the start of our meeting with Dave. I ran up and threw them some barbies and toys to play with in the tub. I ran back downstairs.
Dave had just started talking about inspection companies when I heard Maria scream for me to come up again. I ran up and Mario had put soap in his eyes. I grabbed a wash cloth and helped him rub the soap out. I ran back downstairs to hear the tail end of Dave’s thoughts about an appraisal.
Three minutes later, Mario yelled for me. I ignored him. Maria yelled, too. I ignored her. When they both screamed, Jon and I decided that maybe one of them was actually needing assistance. I ran upstairs. Water soaked the floor, the bath mat, the area around the sink. They both pointed at the water and gave me a blank look.
I reacted as any stressed, hungry, overly worked person would: I flipped out. Lost it. Yelled at them and slammed the bathroom closet door. Told them that I could not believe how inconsiderate they were to get water all over the floor. I stomped back down the stairs and out the door.
Then I felt horrible. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just take a deep breath and walk away? As I sat on the porch listening to Dave and Jon, I saw the front door open. Within about ten minutes, out walked Maria and Mario all clean and dry and in their nighties. Tears automatically flowed from my eyes. I scooted them back in the house on the couch and sat them down.
“I have to tell you both something.
Thank you. Thank you for being such wonderful children and for knowing that mom was upset and for doing your best to make things better. Mom has been really tired and stressed lately and sometimes I take that stress out on you. I don’t mean to do that. I love you both very much.”
“Will you both try harder to not get the floor so wet?”
“Yes, mom, we promise.”
We hugged again.
I walked back outside with them. They played hide-n-seek and Jon and I finished up with Dave. I sat on the porch watching them play soaking up the sweetness and sensitivity of their actions post mama-freak-out. That one little gesture brought me back home – just what I needed.