In Need of a Silent Night

This elf is spent, and she is in desperate need of a silent night.  By the way, have you heard this song from Amy Grant?  If not, you need to listen to it because it sums up exactly how I, and every other mother on the planet, is probably feeling right now.

Yesterday, I had an early morning appointment to get snow tires put on my car.  I sprang out of bed, quickly wrote up my blog, scarfed down some breakfast, and headed out the door.  Since it was a snow day, Zoe was home and I was able to leave the boys behind to put a major dent in my Christmas shopping.  It was like my very own Christmas miracle:  the stores were not busy, I was all by my lonesome, and I even had lunch with that hunk of a husband of mine.  But, as the hours passed and with each new store I entered, the spring in my step began to diminish.  I began to grow weary of all the toys, the jeans in everything shade of pastel imaginable, and the same Christmas songs playing over and over again.  Before the mall managed to zap every last ounce of my Christmas spirit, I decided it was time to grab some groceries and head home.

Once I was safely tucked back in my car, my trunk brimming with gifts, and the radio shut off, I could feel the layers of extraneous sights and sounds from my shopping excursion begin to flake off.  Amidst the silence of my car, I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt my Christmas glow slowly begin to return.

Unfortunately, although my glow had returned, my strength and patience remained zapped.  With supper done and the kitchen cleaned up, I laid on the couch wanting nothing more than a hot bath and an end to the day.  Mr. Level-Headed was still not home and so I had to put my plans on hold and muster up the last of my reserves to put the boys to bed.  There was a lot of yelling from all of the involved parties and the Santa sign was eventually turned to naughty, but in the end, I had two boys snugly tucked into their beds.  And then it happened.  A moment I would chew off my right arm to take back, and one of those moments that will haunt me to my grave.  In my exhaustion, my brain momentarily shut off, and I said something extremely stupid to someone so very dear to me.  I did not mean for it to come out that way, and I definitely did not mean for it to be interpreted the way it was, but that does not matter.  Words carry power, and as soon as they have been said or written, you are no longer in control of what they may do.  I know better than this.  Nonetheless, I said it.  It was insensitive.  It was hurtful.  It stung.  And it will never be forgotten.

After much explanation, consoling, and tears, I finally dragged my empty shell of a body to bed.  I turned off the lamp and let my tears flow freely upon my pillow.  I had screwed up, ROYALLY!  In all my gusto to send 2012 off with a bang, I had lost sight of what truly matters, my family.  I have been so consumed by my to-do lists and my daily goals, that I overlooked my main role as a mother.  A mother, who looks after not only her family's temporal needs but also their spiritual and their emotional needs.  A mother, who is sensitive to the feelings and plights of those around her and gauges her responses and actions accordingly.  Last night I was not that mother, and I can not lose sight of her again.

Like always, I was eager to wake up this morning and start anew.  Feelings were still hurt, but I am confident that time will heal them.  For now, though, I am going to slow down.  I am not going to stretch myself so thin that I am left unable to care for those I love.  I am not going to allow the Christmas spirit in my home to be dampened by over-scheduled days, worn out bodies and even more weary souls.  Christmas needs to be a time of peace, a time of joy, and a time filled with silent nights.