Thursday, May 15, 2014

My Heart

He comes in from a walk to the bridges, all tears and screams. He did NOT want to come in, he wanted to play outside after his bath. Blood-curdling screams on the rug by the door. Amelia holding her ears, begging him to stop. Me threatening him with no treats or elevator videos if he doesn't quiet down, parenting in the desperate, punishing way that I hate so much. He calms enough to stand up and take his clothes off for his bath. He takes his pants off before his socks, and they get stuck at his ankles, reigniting the fire that burns within him when he's so angry.

I wince, help Amelia out of her dress and tights, guide her to the tub and pray that he just stops. He continues to script negative things....the door is dirty, the bath would be too hot, it's just too much. They get in the tub, and I put Pandora Yoga station on the radio and announce that we are having a bath with "nice calm music".

He argues, voice rising. I quietly tell him that it hurts our ears when he yells, that if he is upset he needs to use a quiet voice. Amelia agrees. A song comes on with a soft, soothing sound and he turns his head to listen, giving in to the warm water of the bath and the entrancing melody. We are wordless for a few minutes, all of us lost in our own thoughts.

My mind drifts to him. What causes him to have such strong reactions? Why does he scream so loud? Are we heading through another rough patch with him? How will these incidents change as he gets older? Will he ever become violent? And then to more broad thoughts...does he understand the emotion of love? Does he know how much we love him--how much I love him? How much it hurts when he's so upset?

He stands up. He walks slowly through the tub water to the front of the tub, carrying a cup in his hand. I watch curiously, not sure what he's doing.  Then he says, "I've got you, I've got you. I'm not going to let go. I promise. I'm not going to let go."  And he leans over and takes a palmful of water, rubs it on the cup gently.

And it hits me.  He is ME.

He is imitating me, holding him at swim lessons. How I slowly walk with him through the pool, holding him as close as he needs.  Telling him that I will not let go.  Taking one hand and rubbing warm water on his back.  Whispering songs in his ear, songs that he loves. Soothing him. Encouraging him. He's talking softly to his own child, saying all of the calming things that I say to him.

And I realize. He knows. He knows I love him, that I will keep him safe and comfort him. And I'm left to watch in awe of the amazing boy that, along with his sister, completed my life.

My heart.


  1. Wendy, that was beautiful. I seriously just cried. X
    Kim (Bergner Lane)

  2. Teared up here too...that was beautiful :) God definitely gave your children the perfect mother for them.