When it comes time for Ayay to climb into her carseat, it’s as if her hearing sense shuts down and she becomes completely deaf to my words. The second we step outside and head toward the car, my monologue begins:
Walk to the car. Ayay, keep going. Move, please. Keep walking. Time to get in your carseat. Climb in. Climb in, now. You need to get in your carseat and put your straps on. Ayay, you need to be in your carseat by the time I’m done strapping in your sister. Your sister is almost ready, are you ready? Ayay, please climb in your carseat now so we can go. I’m going to start counting and you need to be in your carseat by the time I get to 5…
Ayay likes to dilly dally. Before getting into the car, she feels the need to pick a flower from the garden.
Ayay, I just told you not to pick a flower until we get home.
Once she gets in the car, she often needs to take off her socks and shoes for the car ride.
Ayay, I told you to keep your shoes on. We’ll be in the car for only 5 minutes.
And lately, she claims she gets hot in the car so she needs to take off her dress and ride to our destination in only her princess underwear.
Ayay, I’ve told you over and over to keep your dress on. If you’re hot, I’ll turn on the A/C once you get in your carseat.
After 20 minutes of Ayay’s deaf dilly-dallying, we’re finally on our way to our destination.
Being caught up in my feelings of frustration, I say to her, “If I received a dollar for every time you didn’t listen, I’d have enough money to run away to Hawaii…by myself!”
Ayay is silent for about 10 seconds and then says, “Well…I’d come with you.”
I ask, “Why would you want to come with me if you never listen to me?”
She says sincerely,”Because I love you.”
Ouch…right in the heart.
Thank goodness for these little moments. Sure, they release tidal waves of guilt, but they also remind me of the indescribable amount of joy my two children bring to my life.