The holidays are here. Part of me loves them, and another part of me hates them. Strong words, I know, but completely true. The holidays tend to be busy, stressful and pretty chaotic. None of those things are good for small children, especially our particular children. Order and routine mean more in our household than most, and this time of year just turns it all upside down.
Take last night, for example. Connor was not having a particularly good night when it came to listening or to behaving appropriately. It was really frustrating, having to constantly remind him of what he was supposed to be doing. The list is long . . . not talking while others were talking, not playing while we were listening to the story, using our inside voice while playing at the library, saying
"please" and
"thank you," sharing with others, and answering people when they asked questions of him. He had a lot of transgressions last night, as you can see. The other three boys were models of good behavior. They each had their little moments of maybe talking out of turn or needing help sharing, but on the whole, they were well behaved. My son, not so much.
Part of me really wanted to just pick him up and take him home. It's what he needed. But another part of me didn't want him to miss out on the last Book Club meeting of the year, especially the holiday one. And I didn't want to miss it either. It's a fun group of moms and kids, and we only get together about once a month. It's one of the special things Connor and I do together, so it's important. But his behavior was awful last night.
We had a pretty quiet ride home. He kept trying to talk and joke at first, but I didn't respond. I was thinking. Simmering, actually, because I was still disappointed in his behavior and trying to figure out what was going on. He's usually better behaved, especially on our one-on-one adventures.
And that's when it hit me, driving home in total silence. The kid was chattering, or trying to until I gave him "the look," just as he always does when he's trying not to fall asleep. He was exhausted and fighting every minute of it.
It started Thursday on Thanksgiving, with our twelve-hour day that included nearly five hours of driving and trips to two different unfamiliar places with lots of strange (at least to the kids) people and food. The very next day we packed up and headed to the lake for an overnight visit that included another two-hour drive each way, not to mention non-stop running and playing with his cousins who were also down visiting. Sugary drinks and sweets fueled the early mornings and late nights. And again on Sunday we traveled, spending almost three hours in the car to drive up and back to visit an old college friend and her little boy who live in another city. That's a lot to pack into four days.
The "normal" school week hasn't fared much better. He went to school early Monday, still dragging from the weekend, only to be picked up and taken out for lunch and some Christmas shopping. A few hours of play time at home and then it was off to birthday dinner in a nearby city with Grammy, Pappy and Grandma JoAnn. Tuesday morning included a play date with his best buddy from preschool, and then today has been school followed by lunch with Mommy and Daddy (a rare treat).
No wonder he isn't behaving very well. There's the excitement of Christmas and Santa, which means more to him this year than any of the previous ones. And there's so much going and going that he's not getting much down time. And, truth be told, he's really not getting nearly enough sleep either, between early morning wake-up calls (Sawyer and school days) and late-night bedtimes (traveling, celebrations and get-togethers). He is exhausted.
So, while I was not at all satisfied with his behavior last night, I do see where part of it is coming from. It hit me as we were driving home in relative silence for a change. And it helped me calm down enough to talk to him in the car before we went inside last night. We talked about all ways his behavior had fallen short, and how going to do fun things was a privilege that you get for being a "good boy" who is polite and who behaves the way he is supposed to behave. There were lots of tearful
"Yes, M'ams" and
"No, M'ams." And there was even a big hug to remind him that even when you're disappointed in the behavior, you still love the big boy.
And now Mommy has to work on her part. I have to remember to balance the fun things with the down time that the boys really need, especially this busy time of year. And I also have to be willing to follow through. Next time we're out, and the behavior continues to be unacceptable, we make our apologies and we go home. Even if that means I have to give up something I want to be doing, too.