Mornings. You either love them or you hate them. I don't enjoy waking up early. Never have…except on Christmas morning or my birthday
when I was younger. And I still do not relish the idea of getting up early. But
the possibility of “hating” it hinges on the whims of another.
Another, who is…short in stature, and often short in
patience as well. Another, whose mood can change at the drop of a hat…the flick
of a switch…or the utterance of a phrase as simple as, “No. Today is a school
day. We can’t watch Sesame Street and snuggle.”
It’s true. Jaxon is addicted.
To snuggling.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it was simply a matter of a few
minutes taken out of our morning to snuggle and say I love you, now let’s get
dressed. Or, if it was just a few minutes to explain why today is a weekday,
NOT a weekend. And that no, we can’t get all snuggly, but yes we will on
Saturday. Here’s a big hug, now let’s get ready.
But, of course, that’s not how it usually goes. Instead,
what we get is one of two possible options: 1) almost meltdown or 2) complete
meltdown. Neither of these options results in a happy,
ready-to-face-the-morning-and-middle-schoolers Mommy.
Take Thursday
morning—a perfect example of the complete meltdown, Jaxon-style.
Jax: (crying, whiney, waking up) I
waaaaant Mommmmeeeeeeee!
Me: (walking in, sitting in the
chair, waking up) Good morning Jaxon. How are you?
Jax: (scrambling out of bed to give
me a “snuggle hug”, still whiney) I good. I love you, Mommy. We not going to
school today?
Me: I love you too, sweetie. No. We’re
going to school today. Today is a school day. It’s Thursday.
Jax: (whiney voice gets whinier) I
don’t want go to school. I want stay
here. (starts crying)
Me: Well, sweetie, Mommy has to go
to work today and it’s a school day for you. You like school. You have fun
there.
Jax: (crying, fussing) NO! I don’t want
go to school. I want stay here.
Things escalate a little here, but we decide we can make
our way to the kitchen to get a smoothie (part of the morning routine). Things
seem to be better. Smoothie is mixed, vitamins given. All seems forgiven.
Jax: (whiney) I want watch Sesame
Street. I want snuggle you. On couch.
Me: Jax, we can’t watch Sesame
Street today. Today is Thursday. We only watch Sesame Street on Saturday or
Sunday. Not today.
Jax: (grumpy, whiney) But I want to.
Me: We can’t today, Jax. Today is
Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday. Then comes Saturday. THEN, on Saturday, we can
watch it. [Notice…I avoid mentioning the
snuggle, because I don’t want to set him off again.]
Jax: (whiney, crying) I want snuggle
you. [But, there it is.]
Me: Sweetie, we have to get ready
now. I can give you some snuggle hugs, but we can’t snuggle on the couch. [Don’t judge me here…snuggling means at
least 20 minutes that we just don’t have in the mornings. Sad, but true.]
Jax: (crying)
Me: You can snuggle Daddy in the bed
while I get dressed. Ok?
Jax: (sits on the floor) NO!
Me: C’mon, Jax. It’s ok. You love to
snuggle Daddy in the nice, warm bed.
Jax: NO!
Me: Ok…Well, I’m going to get ready.
You can come with me and snuggle Daddy if you want. Or you can stay here. It’s
your choice.
Slight escalation here, but he decides to come to the
bedroom to snuggle while I get ready. Unfortunately, when we’ve already had
more than one almost-meltdown, everything he tries to do becomes problematic.
He suddenly “can’t” do things. He won’t even try and starts fussing and crying
about every little thing. Like suddenly not being able to climb into the bed.
Or, like going to the bathroom to potty.
He tells me he needs to go potty, but for whatever reason,
refuses to go. I walk him in there, but now he won’t go. Ok, fine. Let him be
stubborn. I go get his clothes.
Me: (walking back into the bathroom)
JAX!!?? What are you doing?
Jax: hmmmff (he has just peed on the
floor…purposefully)
Me: Oh, Jax…why did you do that? You
know how to use the potty. Now we have to clean that up.
Jax: No! I not!
Me: Yes, you are. You made the mess,
you clean it up. (I walk out before I get angrier)
A meltdown is not what you picture when you’re pregnant,
feeling little baby kicks like the flutter of wings inside your belly. It’s not
what you envision as you smell that “baby smell” on the top of your newborn’s
head as he sleeps in your arms. And it’s not what you think of while you’re
kissing your two-year-old and singing together before bed.
But it happened. Looking back on it, I think, “What could
I have done differently to have had a different result?” The obvious answer
seems to be to have snuggled on the couch. It shouldn’t come as surprise that
snuggling on school mornings does not, in fact, work. At least, not in whole.
It does seem to prevent COMPLETE meltdowns, but occasionally results in almost
or partial meltdowns. This kid is a true addict. You take away his morning snuggle time and he
goes primal.
So, is it surprising that the morning ended positively?
After the meltdown and subsequent floor cleaning, as Jax was getting dressed,
he looked at me and said, “I listening to you now, Mommy. I making good choices
now. You are happy?”
As I told him I wasn’t quite “happy” yet but I was working
on it, I saw the flicker of a meltdown begin to come back into the sweet,
innocent features. I prepared myself for the worst. He opened his mouth and
said, “I making good choices now. You are happy, Mommy?”
These are loaded words. I realize that Jaxon is not simply
asking if I am truly happy at that given moment. He is asking if HE has MADE ME
happy. In the brief instant before I responded, I replayed the situation that
just happened…I thought of the potential for further disruptions to my
morning…and my mood. I knew what I had to do. I hugged him and said, “Yes,
Jaxon. I am happy now.”
