We had a “family meeting” this morning. Just me and the kids, Jared was already at work, but I felt I needed to discuss with them what had happened last night at our house.
I lost my temper and sent them to bed early.
Granted, it was really only about 10 minutes earlier than usual, but I didn’t pray with them or tuck them in and give hugs and kisses like I usually do. I was on empty and I felt really guilty about it afterwards.
So, I sat them down in front of our dry erase easel. Classroom style. I drew a very rough picture of a battery (and was told it wasn’t round enough and that it needed a lightning bolt), and we went through the previous day.
I showed them where my level was in the morning, after work before kid pick up, and after kid pick up.
We talked about how it went up a little after I was able to sit down for 20 minutes and how it went back down after I made dinner and cleaned up.
And then we talked about how far it went down when they were banging on the bathroom door while I was trying to take a shower (so much for an early shower) and about how it completely emptied when I got out of the shower to find mass pandemonium.
Moms, they need to know.
They need to know how you feel and how you respond to the battery drains of life.
They need to know that not all drains are bad, like hearing about everyone’s day all at once, or getting soaked stepping in puddles (while the 5 year old who’s hand you’re holding is jumping in them) when you go to pick them up from school.
They need to know how you handle raising your battery level back up. They need to know that you’re human and sometimes you need to unplug and recharge. This is how they learn how to handle the pressures of life and a family when they are older.
Most of all, they need to know that even when your battery is dead, and you can’t give them goodnight hugs and kisses, that you still love them. No matter what. Forever and for always.