Rocking

I have a couple posts....okay...a lot of posts to catch up on.  Elliott's 4th birthday, Easter, adventure days, Mother's day...all that good stuff.  However, that is not what I want to write about tonight.  Tonight I want to talk about my battle with slowing down and living.

I do not know if it has been said before on my blog, but Cameron and I are fairly strict parents.  As soon as it is reasonably logical, we get our kids on a schedule starting when they are babies.  We are teaching them to say ma'am and sir.  We do not tolerate them talking back or speaking in disrespectful tones to us or anyone.  They are disciplined pretty consistently and we rarely back down.  Now, this is not to say they are perfectly behaved children. Hehe...actually it sometimes means quite the opposite.  Elliott still throws fits sometimes and is going through a talking back phase, but the point is that we correct him every time and make sure that he knows that he is responsible for his behavior.  Our home is one where good and bad choices are discussed on a daily basis. 

Now that I've finished that little diatribe, I can focus in on what I wanted to actually say.  Bedtime at our house is routine as well.  We go up, gather in Annabelle's room and read scriptures and say our prayers.  Then we sing songs together and read a story to little miss.  She is put to bed and then we go and brush Elliott's teeth and then he gets a bit of one on one time with a story and cuddles before I say goodnight and leave.  We try to be really consistent in this so that it does not become chaos.

I'm going to probably get a lot of flak for saying this, but here it is.  Cameron and I let our children cry after a certain age when we know that nothing else is wrong with them at bedtime.  We do not go in and pick them up every time they cry or whine.  They don't sleep with us and never have.  I know this doesn't work for other parents and I have no judgements towards them, but in our family it works very well.

Anyway, (wow...that was a freakishly long and boring introduction...do forgive me) tonight when I laid Annabelle down and walked out of her room she started to cry.  I looked back at her and smiled and said, "goodnight babygirl" and left again.  As I was brushing Elliott's teeth I continued to hear her cry and for whatever reason, tonight I walked back into that room and saw her distraught little face and picked her right up.  I wrapped her in her blankie, held her close to me and sat in the glider.  She didn't move or try to get up (which is what she does 99% of the time), so I knew her tears this time were for something more than not wanting to go to bed. 

Rocking her slowly, I looked down into her blue blue eyes and I couldn't help but softly brush her baby cheeks.  However, then my mind went into overdrive and I thought about the fact that I still needed to workout, go down and do dishes, do more laundry, get Elliott to bed and somehow fit in a shower as well.

I stifled the urge to quickly put her back down and get to work because she is now 18 months old and I honestly don't know how that happened.  Truly, it leaves me speechless every time I think about it.  Plus, then Elliott walked back in and asked to hold her and rock her.  So we all sat in the glider and he wrapped his little boy arms around her and told her a story about a little boy and his trains to, "help her feel better mommy."  As I looked at these two beautiful human beings that just happen to be mine, I prayed that I would be able to feel this peace and calm more often.  I want to stop worrying about the endless chores around the house just a little bit, and focus more on being "present" as a mother.  The way I felt when I slowed down even a fraction of a minute tells me that it will be well worth the effort.