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Friday, November 6, 2009

S1 Makes the Week

This week I have been over tired and exhausted. Emotionally spent. Busy beyond what I am used to. And I have been grumpy with my family and short whenever they aren't doing as I think they should. For instance, S3 and S4 have woken up every day this week disliking each other greatly. I mean, we all can wake up on the wrong side of the bed but these boys were opening their eyes and quickly putting the act of annoying the other and put into action what mean thing they had planned to do all thru the night, I usually just holler at them to knock it off and get along because they are brothers and stuck with each other for the rest of their lives. It usually is okay after that. But I would end up hollering at them and then I would send them to the couch to sit away from each other or something not pleasant. Never pleasant. Always much hollering. Buckets of tears. Every morning and night it has been like this and I have found myself looking for bedtime with greater and greater joy in hopes that the next day would be better but it hasn't been.

To this mix, my goose died. Now, I know some of you are going to snicker and shoot coffee out of your nose laughing that I would be sad about a goose. But I have had Miss Goosey for about five years. Defended her to the enth when others tried to chase her about the yard. There are few girls here on the farm and Miss Goosey and I both liked to chat with each other. Our conversations would vary but I would talk with Miss Goosey all the time. Mr Goose would ignore our girly chats, Mr Goose is a great goose husband, he protects Miss Goosey always and never leaves her side. But he is not a people liking goose. Miss Goosey died this week and we think it is just of old age. Mr Goose wanders the coop calling for her and he spends a lot of time standing near where she died. I buried her in a box behind the coop, it seemed heartless to bury her far away from Mr Goose. I know, I know, they are just geese but I cried. A lot.

S1 has been watching all this not saying much. Last night I was short with everyone and when dinner was done, I sat down with the S2 to begin the long bit of homework we had before us. While I was in the living room reading with his brother, S1 cleaned the table, washed the table and took all the dirty dishes to the kitchen. That is his normal job. But this night he emptied the dish washer of all the clean dishes, he took care of the clean dishes, he loaded the dirty dishes into the empty dishwasher and he filled the dispenser with soap and started up the dishwasher. He wrote me a note and taped it to the dishwasher.
This morning S1 brought my coffee out to the warming suburban he had started for me. He opened Jr's door for me when I came lugging the car seat out. He ran to the drivers door and opened the door for me, turning on my heated seat even though my heated seat has been broken for a year now. How would he have known?

All day today I have found cleaned dishes in all sorts of could be good spots. I found my bread pan on the top shelf when it belongs nestled with the others in the bottom cub-hoard. I found the big measuring cup with the bowls, but every time I found something where it didn't belong it just brought a smile to my heart and, yes, even a few tears to my eyes. I felt so loved.

I felt so guilty for how short I have been with the boys all week when my busy week had nothing to do with them and yet I had taken the frustration and over tiredness out on them.

There are pumpkin cookies (S1's favorite) waiting for him when he gets home from school. But it is just a small gift compared to the gift my boy gave this over tired moma. Oh yes, I am framing the note he wrote. He turned a rough week into a week I will instead treasure for all time.

2 comments:

Karen S. said...

As a mom to all boys too I can say, What a precious thing when our little men catch us off guard with their kindness & thoughtfulness...especially when our hearts need it most!

The Farmer's Wife said...

Oh, I'm so, so sorry about Miss Goosey! (I'm sniffling, and I never met her.) And I'm sad for Mr. Goose.

Just when kids are about to push you over the edge, and I mean when you are clinging by your unmanicured nails...they somehow manage to turn it around and you remember why you let them live there.

(Sometimes, if you sit in a corner in my house, you'll hear me muttering under my breath, "Love is PATIENT. Love is KIND...")