Banana Mixed with Banana Chocolate Chip

Tonight Isaac had a hard time falling asleep.  Maybe it was to do me a favor because Dave is on a campout with the Young Men/Scouts in our ward and I was NOT looking forward to a night all by myself.  But whatever it was . . . it was pretty intense.  But that's Isaac.  First he cried and cried and cried.  Then he cried.  Then he screamed.  Then he cried.  And he woke Brianna up every single time.  So finally I went in, armed and dangerous.

Then I remembered that kids meet you in the same attitude/voice you take to them and decided to take it down a few notches.  He said he was hungry, and though I didn't really believe him, after an hour and a half of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth and really, really, really wanting to put his sister to bed for the LAST time of the night, I caved.  I had two quick/non-messy foods in the kitchen: a banana and a banana chocolate chip muffin that didn't rise when I baked it because I opened the oven to "check" on it, and it therefore has lasted a few days in a ziploc bag on my counter.  I took both.

He opted for the banana.  Perfect.  I left it with him and . . . left.

Just as I got Brianna back to sleep --- BAM!  Screaming, crying, more weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth. And an echo of it from Brianna who was once again disrupted in our every attempt to get her some sleep.

Again, I went in armed and ready for a fight.  And again the voice in my head - love that voice sometimes - warned me to take it easy and set the tone.  Firm but kind. In control of my emotions and the situation but loving and caring and wanting to understand what he really needed so we could ALL get some sleep tonight.

So I grabbed the previously-rejected muffin and went back into his room with it.  To find the uneaten banana sitting on his pillow and a very worn-out little boy tired to tears and not even capable himself of knowing what he needed.  Or so I thought. I got him back in bed, told him that if he was hungry, he would eat the banana, but he would do it in bed.  The LAST thing I needed was him thinking he could use hunger to get out of bed/out of his room and repeat performances in pursuit thereof ALL NIGHT LONG!

Just then Brianna started to cry.  Isaac told me she was crying and I said I heard her; then he said, "Mommy, cuddle Isaac's pillow."  I thought he meant he wanted Brianna to lay with him for a minute because sometimes when I go in to say goodnight with her in my arms, I'll lay her beside him for a minute to cuddle and say goodnight.  I told him that tonight was not a good night for that, Brianna was having a hard time, everyone was tired, and he just needed to eat the banana and muffin and go to bed.  We argued for a minute about whether or not HE was actually tired.  Then he looked at me, red-faced and puffy-eyed from crying for SO LONG, and repeated, "Mommy, cuddle on Isaac's pillow a minute."  I said, "Isaac - you want me to cuddle with you?"  He said yes.  I said, "Honey, I can't - I'm too big to lay in your bed with you."  He said, "No - not too big, Mommy!  I need you cuddle a minute."

I laid my head on his chest and repeated that I was too big but I loved him.  He wrapped his arm around my head and pulled me to him as hard as he could and said, "I love you, Mommy!"  I laid there for a minute, rubbing his back to calm him down, the smell of the banana he was eating and the muffin on his pillow filling my senses -- the tight squeeze of his arm every time he thought I might be lifting my head pulling on my heartstrings.  I finally did lift my head, but he said, "Mommy - please cuddle Isaac's back again!"  So I laid my head back on his chest and rubbed his back again as he finished his banana.

Then Brianna's screams bordering hysteria brought me back to reality, and I told him I absolutely had to go to Brianna and to please finish his food and go to sleep.  He said okay - we said one last I love you - and I left the room.

I'm recording this tonight - in my usual TMI/overly-verbose detail, because I hope that smell -- those smells -- always bring this memory back to me.  On so many levels I don't ever want to forget this night when the voice in my head got me to a point to be there when my little boy melted my heart, asked me to cuddle with him for a minute, pulled me tightly to his chest, and said from the depths of his heart, "I love you, Mommy!"  And - in spite of the voices in my head shouting at me about tooth decay and food in bed and giving in to even two-hour-long crying spells - I'm glad I listened to the one that got me to be there with calm, controlled kindness and love.  It doesn't get much better than that, does it?