Everyday Angels

photo courtesy of flickr by bennylin 0724

Now I know all you parents out there understand the importance (and difficulty) of the TREMENDOUS responsibility on our shoulders to raise our children properly and to be good people. Sometimes, I find it to be overwhelming to accept this responsibility and I (like many other moms I know) want to cry like a baby and wonder why I had kids in the first place. Such, was my Tuesday morning. Last week had been incredibly rough for both Micro and Micron. They were off their "schedules" for many days. Normally, they can handle 2-3 back-to-back "off schedule" days, but this had been going on for over a week and I had the intention of getting them back (as well as myself) on track starting yesterday. And yesterday was good as we started off the week with a playdate that resulted in some much needed outdoor activity and both kids taking long naps. Ahh, thank you Lola for that gift. 

Well, Tuesday mornings are apparently much different. I couldn't get Micron to stop crying EVERY single time I put her down. EVERY. TIME. Now, something tells me she might be teething, but I can't get her to leave her mouth open long enough for me to check her gums, and when I try to rub my finger along the bottom of her gums, she's often trying to close her mouth. So, here I am trying to get ready and just head out the door with both little rug rats and I've got one rug rat screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs, while the other one is screaming to bring more toy cars (you have TWO HANDS buddy, unless you pop out another arm, you're only taking TWO TOYS). I slowly began to withdraw into my state of "ignore everything and just keep moving." I kept telling myself, don't begin to cry and ignore that icky feeling at the bottom of the pit of your stomach. YOU can do this, just get past all the tears and drive. I had a few errands to run and one of them required me to return a few items to the store. 

Well folks, I believe that the Good Lord always has a way of sending you messages in the most unusual forms. On Tuesday morning, he sent Leslie. I don't know Leslie very well. In fact, I met Leslie in the parking lot while I was setting up my stroller and hauling both kids out of my car. Leslie had parked his huge SUV right next to my little itty bitty hybrid. Leslie was such a gentleman that he patiently waited and allowed me to take those extra 5 minutes to get my crap together. During that time he and I began a conversation that started with him saying, "Oh my gosh, you are one good-looking little boy." Now, I'm not trying to toot Micro's horns or anything like that, but I quickly retorted (and mimicked a scowl) to Leslie, "He may be cute, but he's in his terrible two's."

Leslie then proceeded to tell me a little about parenting and how important our responsibility as parents are and that there's no such thing as "terrible two's" and so forth. For the record, he wasn't preaching to me or telling me what to do, he and I were just talking about having kids (and where he found the preschool and grammar school). His wife is a clinical child psychologist and he's a SAHD (and he's in his 50's, at least). Leslie told me, "As parents, we just have to raise our children properly and guide them in becoming the best of themselves (even if that means, we won't always be happy with the outcome)." He was such a warm, proud, and very loving Dad. How do I know when I just met the guy? I could feel it in my heart. The way he talked about his kids and how he proceeded to remind me that parenting is challenging, but the rewards are exceptional and it's the toughest job--all those things we know and often hear from others. Somehow, his gentle demeanor, warm smile, and "fatherly" tone was what I needed to make the rest of Tuesday morning more pleasant. In my heart, I believe my Lola had sent Leslie to help bring me away from the brink of "breaking down" amidst the crying children and my feeling of hopelessness. Lola was reminding me to keep moving forward. She, after all, raised four children (mostly on her own as my Lolo passed away early on), six grandchildren, and in some small way, helped raised six great-grandchildren. I heard you Lola and I'm still listening. Thank you Leslie. I hope I can be an angel to someone at some point and help make their day easier and better.