Seven Eleven

Adversity doesn't build character. It reveals it.  This ancient truism was running through my head today as I drive home from babysitting. In all the many years that I have sat for children, the admonition not to jump off furniture has been given out of fear for damage to the furniture, not the children, despite citing such concerns. Today, as I went upstairs to get one child out of the bath another decided that my absence from the room provided an excellent opportunity to use the back of the sofa as a balance beam, despite my many requests that he and his sister remain off the furniture while I was out of the room. 

As I argued with the youngest about the end of bath time I heard loud screams coming from below. I thought to myself, "A child had better be bleeding to justify that kind of noise" not expecting anything of the sort. With one wet child running naked upstairs, I went down to lecture about listening ears and why I had wisely advised against jumping off the sofa but the words caught in my throat as I saw blood on the hand of the disobedient child in question. Now on full alert I inspect him and find a quarter sized source of blood matting his white blonde hair. 

No sooner do locate this wound and pick up the screaming child, with fears of stitches, emergency rooms and scared parents flooding my brain than the pizza I'd ordered as a special treat is outside the front door. The Universe's sense of comedic timing probably would have made for an excellent hidden camera show but I was starting to frazzle.

To complicate matters, though I provided my credit card info online the driver showed up expecting cash. With the wet 4 year old running around naked, the five year old proclaiming he was going to die and his sister dancing in glee at the much anticipated arrival of the pizza I'm afraid I was less than patient with the delivery person. I told him I didn't have cash and to call the store and figure it out while I walked away with the screaming child. In all likelihood, he didn't see the blood.  He probably thought I was just rude and ungrateful. 

After chatting with the store we were able to resolve the payment issue while I mopped blood off the back of Erik's neck and head. Thankfully, no stitches were required and despite his forecasts of doom signs claims that he hurt so bad he couldn't even move his arms to wash his hands, Erik was running and jumping on furniture again inside of an hour. 

While all was well that ended well, in the moment I acted stressed, impatient and entitled. This is the character that I chose to reveal instead of calm, loving and giving despite being trained in crisis intervention and having been on the scene for much worse. While of course my inner critic wants to have a hay day with the situation and my equally vocal inner victim wants to defend my actions, I simply feel compelled to acknowledge that I chose to show up as less than my best self. It happens. No excuses, just an opportunity for honest introspection and commitment to improvement. Now if only I were this level headed about All my perceived failures.  :-)