Todd and I were talking earlier this week after we put the kids to bed about how funny it is that people tell us that Hayes is such a happy kid. They’ll say, “There’s Hayes! He is always smiling.”
I love that people say that about my baby. But we were laughing because we feel like lately, with us, he’s almost always whining. Groaning, whining, constantly asking for something. Milk, juice, a snack, to go outside. It’s constant. He’s two. It comes with the territory.
Thankfully, with Hudson out of that phase, I know what happens on the other side of the “terribles twos” and “even-more-terrible threes.” It gets better.
But for the past few days, every time I’ve picked up the boys from preschool at noon, they whine and cry the whole way home. They can’t even articulate what it is that has them upset. They’re happy to see me, we get to the car, and the whining begins. I’m sure they’re hungry, and they’re tired of being on their very best behavior, so they just let it all out in the car with me.
So, on the way home from school, I said, “Okay, let’s play the quiet game.” Hudson asked, “What’s the quiet game?”
So I told him that the first person to talk is the loser. He sat there for a minute and smiled and said, “I want to be the loser!”
And that was the end of the quiet game. Because, by then, I was hysterically laughing.
My house is never quiet. But it’s not always full of whining. Earlier this week I was getting ready in the bathroom, and the boys were watching cartoons before school. And I could hear them talking to each other and laughing.
But the truth is, I’m tired. I want some quiet. I was on a quest for 31 days to create white space, and it hasn’t been a switch that I’ve turned off.
But my kids are tired, too. They can’t always be their very best little selves.
Last night, Todd put Hayes to bed and I tucked Hudson into bed. We were laughing and joking, and I read him a couple of books. And we giggled and hugged and I walked out of the room. And there was quiet. And white space.
And I smiled at Todd and told him how much of a little delight Hudson is. And Hayes, too. They’re loud, and they whine, and they push me, and they don’t know the most effective ways to express their frustrations. And, still, every night I get those few hours of white space that I crave.
But in those moments when I’m trapped in the car with my boys who don’t know what they want and don’t know how to feel better in that moment, I just try to remember those sweet bedtime moments. Because bedtime is coming, and it’s such a sweet reminder that we do get to start over every morning.
And listening to them and being there for them is my job. That’s my purpose. They talk to me because they love me and trust me. Hudson and Hayes aren’t going to be winning the quiet game any time soon. And that’s okay. They’re the sweetest little “losers” I ever did see.
