I mentioned that the children have been a bit low on jolly these days leading up to Christmas. The Grinch in all of them seems to peak when we are all in the mud room getting ready to leave the house. The boys are especially mean to each other. It doesn't really help that my patience has an inverse relationship to my TO DO list these days. All and all, our drives to school have been anything but pleasant over the past week.
On Wednesday, we had an especially bad morning because it was Molly’s preschool concert morning. We had to leave the house early, dressed nicely, with everything we normally bring plus all the technology necessary to record this blessed event. I was the biggest Grinch of all on this blessed morning. So as the children bicker on our drive down HWY 13, I try not to completely loose it. I just kept repeating silently “’tis the season to be jolly” (but I followed it with something that was not fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la but starts with a different F-word and made me feel a whole lot better).
We arrive at Westwood with all the children still alive and my mouth still shut. I smile and wish them well in an overly cheerful manner. They ran from the car as fast as their little legs would carry them. As they depart, Molly yells “Good-bye Colin and Zach. Have a great day. I love you both.” As the van door shuts and I am pulling away from the curb, she says “I can’t wait until next year when I get to go to school with them. I love them so much and already miss them. It is so hard to be away from them for so long each day.”
Well, this Grinch’s heart grew three sizes in that moment. I could no longer stand there hating those Whos (and their bickering). And just like that the day went from grumpy to jolly because of that little Cindy Lou Who.
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