Today was my Mother’s Day dinner. Yes, I know, Mother’s Day was a long, long time ago. But my husband was out of town on Mother’s Day, so I asked him to please make me dinner on some other Sunday. For the past two Sunday’s we’ve had dinner invitations first to my parents’ house, and then his parents’ house (NICE, I know!), so today was his next chance. He did a fine job. We had a pork roast, potatos and carrots in the crock pot, and fruit and salad to go with it. After that, I asked if I could take my mother’s day NAP, which is, we all know, the best part of Mother’s day. Right?

As I went upstairs, he even told the kids, “Mom is going to go have a nap. Don’t go and bother her.”

About 45 minutes into my nap, I hear a knocking on the door. Groggy, I answered. Doh! “What?” I said. Why did I answer? Never answer them, or they’ll know you really are in there. I heard little John’s voice saying over and over, “Mom! Open the door! Mom! The door’s locked.” Of course it’s locked, silly! I’m trying to have a nap. I groggily said that I was taking a nap, and could he please go away.

And it worked. He went away. Maybe to ask Dad, or maybe to use the other bathroom, I don’t know. But about 5 minutes later, he’s back.
scritch, scritch, scritch at the door.
“Moooo-ooom.” really quiet.
But I’m not going to answer this time. Maybe he’ll realize I’ve gone back to sleep.
Like a predator, he keeps at it.
“Mom?”
“M0-om. I’m hungry.” Knock, knock, knock knock, knock.
Hungry? Didn’t we JUST have dinner?
“Mom?”
“Mom!”
“Mooooooo-ooom”
Knock, knock, knock.
Each knock is like a red blast in my head. My head that is trying to sleep so that I can be a patient mommy again when I wake up.
“Mom?”
“Mom?”
“Mom?!”
BANG, BANG, BANG!
I am still trying to ignore and not give into the anger that is encompassing me with each disturbing noise.
“MOM!!!! I want that cookie you told me I could have! I’m hungry! MOM! Mom!” He’s getting pretty loud now, and I’m wishing that someone–Anyone–would come and rescue me from my tormentor. Isn’t Dad around? Doesn’t he hear this racket? Won’t he save me from this injustice?
I could call him downstairs and tell him that John is disrupting my Mother’s day Nap. But I don’t have my cell phone up here and I certainly can’t remember HIS cell phone number (it’s on speed dial).
“Mom?”
bang
knock
“Mom?”
I can hear something getting stuffed under the door. Maybe it’s a note.
“Mom?!”
BANG, BANG, BANG!
I can ignore this, right?
The guard at my door, the one who is NOT going to let me sleep, is getting louder and louder and I, behind my closed eyes am getting angrier and angrier. I’m trying to just stay calm and ignore it, but I’m trying to nap, dang-it, and he needs to STOP THE NOISE.

Something in my snaps, and my anger takes over. I sit up in bed and say, very loudly, “Go. Away.”
On the other side of the door is silence, and then crying as the little boy goes… I don’t know where he goes, but he does go away. And I did get the rest of my nap.

Looking back, I realize that I should have just gotten up and talked to him. The calm, logical thing would have been to get OUT of bed, go and talk quietly with my little boy, and figure out some kind of a snack that he could have. But I wasn’t being calm and logical, I was cranky and sleepy and supposed to be napping. And I’m sorry. When I came downstairs after my nap and saw my husband asleep on the couch and my other four kids playing on the computer, I asked where John was. “He’s asleep in his room,” they told me, “he was knocking on your door, but then he started crying and went into his room and fell asleep.”

Oh, now I have mother guilt. He cried himself to sleep. And those other kids KNEW he was banging on my door and did nothing to stop him. -Sigh-

No, I’m not a perfect mother. I love my kids fiercely, but sometimes it’s hard to like my kids. They are the reason I need a nap.