A better perspective

After a particularly tough morning in the Sansotta house Molli gave me a reality check.  We’ve been going through a rough patch with Gavin’s sleeping and Molli’s eating (rather, the lack of both).  Unfortunately, I still haven’t developed any magical abilities to know what my kids want or need at any given moment and I fail regularly at this parenting thing. 

On this day, all eyes were open at 5:45, which made for a rough start around here.  Gavin didn’t care because his eyes are open and his lungs are getting exercised about 12 times a night lately.  Molli certainly didn’t care because as far as she’s concerned, if she’s out of her crib, it’s go-time. I’m the only one who cared because I’m the only one who has to maintain a positive attitude and take care of everything and everyone.  And to be perfectly honest, the amount of decent sleep I get directly correlates to my attitude and perspective on life.  Today’s perspective started out poorly.

Poor indeed.

The poorness was reflected in Molli taking one bite of a strawberry and zero bites of her pancake at breakfast, followed by zero bites of her macaroni, peppers or carrots at lunchtime.  Naps were fights and my tude was no better than Molli’s. We both put up a good fight about lunch, which woke Gavin up and I deemed it Molli’s naptime too.  As we were walking to her room she simply told me, “I need Mommy.”  (Insert bad-mommy guilt here.) I felt terrible for being impatient with her so we left Gavin crying for sleep in the pack-n-play and I snuggled with her on the bed in her room for a minute.  She looked at me and spoke wisdom to my heart as she folded her hands and suggested, “Lets do this.”

My child, my two-year-old little girl, reminded me that we needed to pray; that God cares.  What a simple, yet profound suggestion.  So we did.  I thanked God for my kids and asked him to help them feel better, and for patience then told Molli it was her turn.  She said, “Dear my God, Thank you for Molli’s mommy, thank you Molli’s daddy and my baby Gavin, my chunker.  We will have a good day and good naps. Please. Amen.”  (I had to immediately write it down, it’s her first real prayer!)

My heart melted and my poor attitude dissolved in the sweetness of the moment. I am proud of her for remembering to ask God for help and am happy to report that both children are peacefully sleeping in their respective sleeping quarters.  While I love the noise of a lively house, the calm is so appreciated and I am basking in it today.  Gavin’s slow, steady breaths are more than enough to fill my ears and I’m thankful for the moment to sit down and reflect on things more important than clean sheets and uneaten macaroni still on the table.