Boundaries

Let’s talk about boundaries, you and me.  No, not you out there, but from you to you.  From me to me.  What promises do we break to ourselves daily?  How many times have I told the kids, “Five more minutes and those five minutes have turned into an hour, sometimes even two?”  No wonder, then when I really want them to get going in five minutes, they don’t.  I get mad. And then I break another promise to myself.  “I will not yell today,” and dang it, like my nine year old is given to saying lately, I yell. 

I am getting better.  I am yelling less.  I am working on creating my day rather than getting through my day.  Every moment is an opportunity.  My Nicolas and I had a blast in the line-up at Costco together the other day.  Things did not start off so well though.  There was that moment where I had expressly told him not to get into the Costco cart, and when I turned to get the bananas the nimble limbs of intent that he is, had gotten himself into the cart.  I scowled.  I turned my lips down. “Mama are you mad?” he asked.  Of course I am, looking at him as if he had just told me that he had given me poison to drink.  Down one aisle, “Mama can we start again?” and up another.  I started to walk away from the cart, “I told you not to get in the cart and you did, I don’t even know what to do.”

I turn around and nimble limbs had gotten out of the cart, he was coming in, for a hug.  I hugged him back, seething turned to self-flagellation, “Why did I get so mad, I am such a terrible mom, he could have hurt himself getting out of that cart.” And then I stopped and I chose, in that moment, I chose to have fun with my son.  He is who he is.  And he is amazing, and yes, most times you have to ask him something a few times before it registers and sometimes you have to get him to focus so that you know he understands and a lot of times he is not going to listen because he is a kid.  My kid.  He loves hockey, he loves it when I watch him play, he is extremely sensitive to the fairness of things, and has to ensure that levels of pop that are delivered to his brother and him are the same, along with chips, chocolate and any other type of dessert or treat.  Fair.

And so I need to work on being fair, with him, and figure out what works for him and what doesn’t.  I like to say, “Where are the boys that belong to me?” when I am picking them up from somewhere or getting them ready, but they don’t really, they belong to themselves and it is my job to figure out what their boundaries are and work within them.  And what they need.  He is my child, time out only works for him if he has done something a few times that we have asked him to be mindful of, like being respectful of his brother’s boundaries and yelling never works, because he can out yell and out stomp anyone in the family – and frankly I think the neighbours don’t want to hear us anymore.  And yes, I still worry about the neighbour’s and what they think.  That is a post for another time.  Maybe in five minutes.

Fresh flowers are a gift I give to myself regularly, for so long  wanted to buy them but wouldn't  because I thought they were a waste of money.  Now I see them as an investment in beauty, a commitment to creating in the moment, life is fleeting.