“Mom I’m just upset right now because I need to cuddle with you.”

And with that we were on the couch with a pile of blankets, snuggled up singing Christmas songs. After a few minutes she was asleep, and after a few more minutes, the doorbell. She jumped up and bolted to the door to greet her friends. When they asked if she could play she said, “I’m cuddling with my mom.” I told her she could go out and play with her friends if she wanted, or she could stay inside with me.

“I want to cuddle with you.”

Honestly I did not see that coming. She waits all day until her friends come home from school to play with them.  So we snuggled up in those blankets again, and with some “Silent Night” and “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” she was asleep again. And so was I.

I was glad we could cuddle some more but also grateful that I stopped to take time to be with her in the first place. Grateful that I listened to what she needed. I don’t think I do that as often as I should.

I am realizing more now how her button pushing really means more of “I need to cuddle with you” than “I want to make you upset.” And more “I need you,” than “I need time out.”

It seems she’s figuring out how to tell me that too.

Here is Hyrum, sitting in a pile of rice crispies, clearly enjoying it. Ava wanted to feed her stuffed animals the other day, so now the playroom is covered in them. I’ll vacuum it, sometime.

Anyway, earlier today…

I put Hyrum in his crib for his morning nap and got a bath ready to relax a bit. Then Ava comes up to me and asks me to tie up the back of her Elsa dress. So I did. And then she cried that it wasn’t tight enough, so I did it again. And then I see her little feet inching along the edge of the bathtub. (It seemed she wanted her dress tied up so she could play in the bath too.) When I told her I wanted to relax by myself in the tub, she cried, and then I heard Hyrum crying, so I went to check on him. His crib was covered in rice crispies, again. (He knocked over Ava’s cup of them.)

So Ava played in my bath while I held Hyrum. And I figured since we were already up, we might as well enjoy the moment. So I sang him Silent Night as I rocked him back and forth, and he just rested there so relaxed and still. And I loved it so much, especially since he has been so grumpy and restless lately.

But then Ava’s bath talk got quieter, and soon she was in the room talking to Hyrum. Oh dear. So he was up again, and I took the opportunity to vacuum his crib while he ate rice crispies off the floor in the playroom. And now he’s finally asleep in his clean crib and Ava is watching a Christmas movie in the playroom. Phew!

Ava fell asleep on me today, the second time in a week (I love it.) This time she asked me to read her stories from the Friend magazine, and in one part there was a song, “Away in a Manger,” so I sang it to her. As I sang, I could feel her body get heavier as she lay there on my chest. By the second verse, her breathing became deeper, and by the third verse sure enough her eyes were closed. It felt so good to hold her so close to me. And I was grateful that she wanted to be there, that she always wants to be so close.

Lately, I have been getting on her case a lot, particularly for the way she treats Hyrum at times. Much of the time she is very caring, responsible, and loving. And she loves to care for her little brother.  But then there are the many times when she makes him cry.  And when she doesn’t listen to me when I tell her to stop, it’s like something breaks loose in me. I didn’t think I had much of an angry side until she turned three. So many times recently I am kneeling down by her, holding her in my arms and asking for her forgiveness for my lack of patience. For my anger.  For my unkindness. And seemingly without a second thought, she lifts her head, wraps her arms around my neck, and jumps into my lap, smiling. So we talk. And we decide we both are going to do better next time.

But a few days ago, I realized I needed to do more. For her.

In my recent prayers, I have been asking for guidance. This girl has such a strong will, and I am struggling to know how to channel it without putting up walls that only make her more upset. The other day, I realized that I need to take more time to teach her why, and let her govern her own choices (to a certain extent of course.)  Last night when tucking her in bed, I handed her her pink water bottle, and she immediately cried, “No I wanted a sippy cup!” She was like a wave gathering momentum, ready to crash with a whining fit, and I was quietly reminded to be patient, to take the time to teach her. So I sat on her bed next to her, and I told her how I had just spent the last 40 minutes washing dishes by hand, and how I really didn’t want to wash another bottle because I was tired and I still had things I needed to do. I asked her why she wanted a sippy cup instead of her water bottle, and then (nicely) asked if she would use her pink water bottle for tonight because it would really help me. Not wanting to back down, she still said that she wanted her sippy cup, so I told her that I would go downstairs and get it for her.  I left her room, and just as I started heading downstairs I heard her yell, “Stop!” When I came back into the room, I asked if she wanted her pink water bottle back, and she nodded slowly, and smiled. So I hugged her and thanked her for making a good choice, and as I left her room I said a little prayer of thanks for helping me make a good choice too.