Rolling on the Coaster

A night of highs and lows and highs and lows.

My son and I are very sensitive people. It's a blessing. Sometimes (ok, much of the time), it feels like a burden and it's challenging navigating a world where sensitivity is STILL, though very much MISTAKENLY, presumed to be a weakness and something to disdain.

Of course, as artists, we know that this is nonsense but we still live in a world where this is a popular belief. That being said, I am grateful for my ability to feel compassion for strangers and to take on the sadness of the world. I pour what I feel and experience into my art and I am a much better actress and writer thanks to this trait.

This past week, I've been mildly horrified by what's been coming out of my mouth. "Am I turning into a crotchety, cranky woman?!" This evening, I'm hoping that I was cured.

I was looking for a parking spot at the supermarket before heading over to an event. Not rushed, but not able to dilly dally, I waited for a car with its lights on, ready to leave...but it didn't budge.

"Ok, you're going nowherrrrrrre," I heard myself complain as I drove off to find another spot. "Oh and YOU'RE taking up 2 spaces because you're a jerk." (DOWN)

"Mommy! Don't say that!" I heard my offspring exclaim from the back seat.

"Well, some people need to be more thoughtful. They just don't care."

"Maybe they didn't know they did that."

"Oh, they know. When they get out of the car, they can see how they're parked. They don't care." I griped. (DOWN)

"But, what if they had to park like that, like you've once said, because the person next to THEM was over the line."

"Ah, maybe they had to move over because they had no choice? You're right. That's possible. Thank you," I told him, grateful to be reminded that I don't know the whole story, so I shouldn't judge.

"You taught me to be this way, so just thank yourself."

Wow! (UP. A definite UP.)

We got what we needed, had a fun evening with friends playing bingo, of all things. I really enjoyed myself. AND, my boy won the grand prize at the end of the evening. A pretty great time together. (UP!)

"Can he sleep over or can I come over; whichever is easiest?" my nephew asked. I told him that he was welcome to sleep over. We had had a night of pizza, snacks and bingo so I allowed them a quick evening before bedtime because it was already 9 p.m. when we got home. "You can play until 9:30 and then you must get ready for bed. In fact, play until 9:20, then please do something like read together so that you're not hyped up from the blue screen before going to bed." OK, they'd agreed. (UP.)

At 9:21, I told them that it was time to turn off the gaming. "Can I just get to a point where I can save it?" my son asked, as my nephew had turned his off immediately and went to put his device in his bag. When I saw him do that without the excuse of having to save it, I'd told my son to do as his cousin did and put it away.

"Oh, it won't take long. I promise!"

"What's your cousin doing?" I'd asked him. Then turning to my nephew, "How'd you close yours immediately?" He replied that he'd just put it in Snooze mode. My son didn't have his charger in his bag so I told him he could get to a place to save it only if it would be quick. My nephew asked if he could do the same. I'd agreed - it was only fair - and maybe a minute later, they were done! Off to the bathroom. (UP and UP)

There was laughter, joy, frolicking. I got the beds ready while they washed and put on PJs. My nephew may've read for 5 minutes as my son changed into PJs. The book was already put away when my son came in to go to sleep. I'd said that I'd sing to them, as my son prefers at bedtime.

"I didn't get to read!" my son whined.

"I know, but it's 9:45 and it's late. Go to bed. You can read in the morning."

"I never get to read before bed! I want to read. You SAID I could!"

"I know that I said that, but that was supposed to be from 9:20-9:30 and then bed. It's late now."

"But you'd SAID I could read!" he whined as he made for the door. (DOWN)

"Please stop repeating that. I know what I said and you know when it was time for that. It doesn't matter that I had said it, earlier. That time has passed."

"Yeah, it's almost 10 o'clock," chimed in his cousin. "I just want to go to sleep," he said from under the covers.

My son took it from a place of, "Now, c'mon, kiddo. Off to bed with you," to "GO. TO. BED. NOW!" all while continuing to argue his point. Miraculously (and probably mostly because we had company), I never lost my composure. I talked to him, reasoned with him, asked him to be reasonable, asked him to stop acting that way, until he went to walk out again to get his book and I had to threaten him that if he did, I'd call his uncle and ask him to come pick up his cousin and he'd ruin the night for the BOTH of them. He finally went to bed, crying. One of the many tactics I'd used to get him to bed was, "Let's all snuggle. Bedtime, c'mon..." but it wasn't the last thing I'd said so when I turned out the light, aggravated, exhausted from the very lengthy negotiating and maintaining my patience while he repeated the same mantra, "But you'd SAID..." I turned to leave and he cried out, "You'd SAID you'd SNUGGLE with me!" Oh...you still want me to snuggle? I thought you hated me right now.

"Ok, I'll come snuggle." He was still tearful. I started to sing to the boys an improvised song about how they are my joy and sent from above; how I'll cherish and love them, forever.

I was practicing Reiki on them as I sang. We became silent. My son, with his hand in mine, whispered, "I'm sorry." (UP)

My "Thank you, honey," was met with, "You're welcome." I then whispered to him that it was very brave of him to say that and I was grateful. It was a beautiful moment. We snuggled for a long time while I silently thanked Jesus and God "for this moment and this moment and this moment." (UP)

I then asked if he wanted to get under the covers. He said that he didn't because he didn't want me to leave. "I'll stay for a bit once you do." Ok. He got under and I stayed for a few minutes before announcing that I would stay for 1 more minute and then I'd be leaving. A minute passed and I'd said, "Good night," and kissed him on his forehead.

"NOOOO! Don't GOOOO!" he said. He carried on. He started a repeat of what he did about not letting him read. My goodness, child! What was going ON?!

"Go to sleep. Now. You're ok. Enjoy having your cousin right next to you." No, no, no, no, no. (DOWN)

I walked out, he followed, I held him. He cried. He cried some more. I held him still. "You've got to help me out here, kid. We had such a lovely evening together, right?" He'd agreed. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"

"I want to sleep with youuuu." I know, I'd told him, but his cousin was there and he was lucky to get to sleep with him by his side. How fun! After getting a tissue and profusely blowing his nose, I somehow got him to return to bed, unhappily. It was 10:23 p.m. 40 minutes of patient mothering. Scolding with love. Threatening with love. Being stern with love. Being mindful of my nephew and his comfort through all of this.

When my son had gone back to bed, I heard them talking for a minute before it was silent. So challenging. So exhausting. I was proud of how I'd handled it, composed myself. It's been SO much more pleasant these last few weeks thanks to MY change. Thanks to me laughing more and reminding myself that it's OK. Him going to bed late? It's not great, but it's ok. Him being a tween and acting like one? It's actually the norm among his peers. All the uncertainty, all the guilt, all the anger, all the confusion over atypical behavior...I'm not alone. (UP)

I was blessed to have him this evening when it was unexpected and I was glad to spend time with him and my nephew. The teachings he shared with me tonight I won't soon forget. The emotional roller coaster he put me through was worth it. To be able to mother through anger and impatience with a steady voice and arms to hold him is a blessing. I'm learning so much. I'm always questioning, often uncertain, helpless and aggravated, but also comfortable knowing that I am divinely guided. (UP UP UP UP UP)