Gnarly Bison

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Toilet Cry

I turn the volume up, despite my 3-year-old daughter’s cries pleading with me not to. I simply can’t take the screaming any longer. I’d rather drown it out with the obscenely loud blasting of “This little light of mine”, than hear the exhausting cacophony of synchronized screaming that has begun in the back seat. And for what exact reason is tbd. Perhaps a dust mite landed the wrong way on her shoulder and then made its way over to torture my 1-year-old son?!? The things that provoke tears these days in my household are unreal. And the length of the incessant screaming is so long and endless that I start to truly believe the only solution is to call on an exorcist.

When we finally reach our destination, the man in front of me in line was so kind and considerate. It was just the salve I needed to ease my weary soul. The simplicity of his gentle demeanor set me at ease. It’s one of those moments that you want to run after the person and thank them immensely for all that they’ve done, because I’m sure they have no awareness of how their simple, kind presence set the trajectory of your “bad” day in a hopeful direction instead.

On the way home, as some jerk cut me off, the thought of the beauty of the meekness of the man in front of me brought me to tears. It was such a comfort to encounter someone like that. A kindred spirit. Of course, it wasn’t just the thought of him that brought me to tears. My emotions were compounded by his image in my mind’s eye. There was something about the way his long arms lay at his sides as he stood that reminded me of my 6’5” dad, or maybe it was the longing for my children to simply let go and be happy... and convictingly so, me to do the same.

Did you know that you can cry without moving? It’s like in those times where you are so exhausted and so defeated and so forlorn, tears just come pouring out of your eyes… no work involved. No sobbing or ugly mouth scrunching or any facial movement at all. Just a stoic, catatonic face as tears of defeat roll down you like a mannequin. That’s the cry of my journey homeward that afternoon.

A few hours after getting home from our errands, we’re having lunch. For a good minute there’s a scream-less household that’s such a relief, but also eerily foreign. Until my youngest doesn’t like the way I handed him his mac ‘n cheese and all hell breaks loose. I tell myself to breathe as he wails and throws his food on the floor, and then just as I think I can make it through, my daughter, randomly and with bit of a tude, says, “I want to be at school,” referring to the preschool she goes to for a few hours a couple days a week. And I’m done for. All of my hard work, my patience, my out-of-this-world love and attention that I give to my children feels so unnoticed and unwanted and unappreciated... and worst of all unreciprocated. Which of course, as I write this in my rational mind now (well semi-rational hah), is not true. They are kids. 3 and 1. They eat their buggers and walk around with food on their faces, they don’t mean to make jabs at me. Or do they?!! No no they don’t. Regardless, in the moment I feel so defeated. I feel as if I’ve fallen and people are throwing their trash on top of me. So I do what any mother that stays at home with their kids would do… I go around the corner to the bathroom, sit on the toilet, and sob. This is a different cry than earlier. The mannequin has come to life and I am ugly crying all the way.

My children have extremely strong emotions and absolutely no stopping point. I laugh in pain at the thought of my husband worrying about our then newborn daughter because she was “so quiet and won’t cry to let us know she needs something”. I think that phase lasted just about one more day before the endless blood curdling screaming began. Oh, but her laugh… her beautiful, hearty laugh can stop anyone in their tracks and put a smile on their face. I thank God every day for that infectious laugh.

And they’re supposed to test us, right?! WE, thank God, are their safe place where they can let it all go free. Don’t we all crave that place where we can laugh and cry and scream and shout and still be loved?? Maybe not so liked in the moment (hah), but loved nonetheless. I have to remind myself everyday that I have a responsibility to be a salve to their little souls. In the same way that I needed one kind moment from a stranger, they need and more importantly deserve infinite amounts of that from me. So, sometimes you need to cry however those tears need to come out, but then you need to dry your eyes and get back to being the guiding light to those precious little lives that you have been blessed with.

~Tara xo

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Scripture: “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” -Matthew 5:5

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