Time Well Spent

Last week I agreed to make a bus for Mackenzie's kindergarten class. After I did that, I discoverd that the bus needed to be 17x5 feet. The project was too big for any place in my house so I went to the school gym Monday morning at 8:15 with the two boys, 17 feet of paper and a few supplies.

The morning started off fine. I gave the boys some basketballs and set to work. However, what started off as a simple 1 hour art projecct turned into a 3 1/2 hour ordeal. The boys tired of their basketballs as soon as Aiden made it to the other end of the court, looked up at the basket and said, "Aiden too little to play this basketball Mama!"

In lieu of basketball, they managed to throw a stack of 100 paper cups all over the gym, jump off of the bleachers, climb onto the stage and hang off the edge until I ran to save them, go into the bathroom and roll toilet paper everywhere, leave dirty footprints on the white bus and use paint brushes to smear the drying black paint onto the white background. At that point, I called my dad who rescued me...and them.

During their 30 minute car ride I was able finish the bus and clean up the mess they made. When they returned, they had had it. They both had colds, were tired and crying. We got the bus to the classroom and waited for the class to finish lunch so we could help them practice.

When it was finally time to go, I had to drag two screaming boys down the hall. By the time we reached the door, I was crying too. My patience was spent and my back was sore.

On the way home, I lamented the fact that I had agreed to make that bus. I was embarassed that so many people had seen my boys in that state. I was frustrated at my inability to control the situation or them.

Then it dawned on me. The problem wasn't the boys. The problem was me. I had expected way too much of the little guys. After all, they are 2 and 1. I know a lot of adults who can't entertain themselves for 4 hours, I'm not sure why I thought they could, or should for that matter.

As I pulled into the garage, I looked into the rear view mirror at two dirty little boys, with glazed over eyes and runny noses. I began to cry. When, oh when, will I learn that kids are kids? They are not miniature adults and they are not perfect. Neither am I.

I scooped them both up and hugged them tight. "I'm sorry mommy got so upset today. It was a hard day. I love you both very much."

At the end of the day I had learned a very valuable lesson. I had two boys who took very long naps and woke up as if the morning had never happened. I had one kindergartener who came home and said, "Cool bus mom!"

In the end, it was time well spent.