Please Don’t Fuss At Me

Like much of the rest of the world, we are social distancing, staying in our house, enjoying the abundance of quality time with the members of our household, and attempting to conquer this homeschooling business.

The toddlers have no idea anything is wrong globally. To them, their older brother is just home all the time to play with them. For me, I am trying my best to make sure my 7-year-old doesn’t fail first grade. I know, is that even possible? During this time, all of the kids should be receiving a grade of grace since mom and dad hardly can replace the trained professionals stocked with an inconceivable amount of patience that aren’t keeping multiple toddlers from applying Play-Do to the laptop while big brother does some math before lunch.

We are wrapping up our third week of our new normal, and to be honest, my standards of life have been greatly lowered.

I have been stressed, cried, overeaten, forgotten to eat, and rewashed the same load of clothes at least six times because I am consistently forgetting I need to do laundry as well!

I am normally a homebody, and as a stay-at-home mother to triplet 2-year-olds and a 7-year-old, I have a baseline of patience and a decent balance of, “Well, did you die?”

However, I have seriously found myself missing normal conversations with adults, or working out with my fit club, or enjoying my weekly worship time with my PWOC ladies.

That normal baseline of patience becomes shorter and shorter each day. My craft of the day has turned into a new color crayon being added to the pack a week and the last shower is a foggy memory.  As my frustration of keeping up has grown, my expectations of my eldest son have grown as well.

He has taken on new chores and a mountain of homeschooling homework with all the distractions of home. He and I have butted heads in a way we never used to before. I have taken away privileges, said “no” more than the word “yes” has even crossed my mind, and I am consistently telling him to wait while I take care of the other responsibilities I foolishly think are more important.

Last night as I tucked him into bed, I finished reading him his nightly story. As I stood to kiss him goodnight, he turned and looked me dead in the eye and said, “Mom can I tell you something?” in a terribly wobbly voice and with watery eyes.

I realize quickly that this is serious, and I nod and wait patiently for him to collect his thoughts.

“Tomorrow, can you not fuss at me so much? It makes me sad because I am trying my best. I know I make a lot of mistakes, and I am sorry.”

My heart sinks, I immediately snap my thought process from, “if he would only listen to instructions!” to “My goodness, he is just a little boy.”

He is a social boy who has been ripped away from his normal. He no longer gets to ride the bus and talk with his friends. He no longer gets to see his teacher every day and have a quiet learning environment. He no longer can go across the street and play at the neighborhood park with his friends. He has added chores and has had self-discipline forced on him as he basically teaches himself reading, math, science, and social studies online, when many adults don’t have the discipline to complete online education.

I have never held my son so tightly.

Today is the first day post no-fuss conversation. I am happy to report it is going much better. I am not carrying the weight of the frustration reaching for a perfectly scheduled day with constantly happy children and chores that somehow finish themselves.

I have a 7-year-old, and it is time I remember that.

Instead of snapping at him and taking away one of the small privileges he has left, I hug him.

I hold him close and tell him I love him and that I am proud of him.

He surprised me with a chalk drawing today while I was laying the triplets down for a nap.

I sobbed.

I am not perfect but remembering he is just a kid with his world thrown upside-down is helping me be the best mom I can be today.