Easier said than done. But it must be done.
The last thing on my mind this morning was gratitude. In fact, the first thing on my mind was a string of curse words. While I didn’t let them escape my lips, I felt that if an innocent bystander were to view my body language, they would probably be offended. I was stressed. Angry. Irritated. I slammed doors. I barked commands at my daughters. We had to get out the door NOW! We were going to be late for the doctor! Shoes ON! Coats ON! I was frustrated with the situation, not with them. We’re going on week number three of illness in my house, and the pressures of care taking are starting to wear on me. Little sleep. Constant demands for attention. To-do lists with little actually done. …
I do many, many things wrong as a mother. I lose my temper. I don’t always stick to consistent routines. I try to balance working from home with entertaining my kids, and it doesn’t always work. But I do three things consistently right. I make sure my girls eat a variety of healthy home-cooked foods. I pray openly and often in front of and with them. And I read and read and read whichever books they desire. So for all I do wrong, I can cling to these three things I do right.
“Mommy, a girl at preschool wants these scary looking dolls for Christmas.”
Which dolls, honey? Monster High dolls?
“Yes. I don’t think they teach good lessons, so I don’t want any.”
Huzzah! I got through to her! Somewhere along the way, through our many discussions about what is healthy and what is appropriate, she got it. Now, what to do about that Disney Princess Moon Walk she keeps asking for…
I can’t right now, I have to make lunch.
I can’t right now, I have to change sister’s diaper.
I can’t right now, I have to clean up the mess from lunch.
I can’t right now, I have to do a little work on the computer.
I can’t right now, I have to go to the bathroom.
I can’t right now, I have to fold laundry.
I can’t right now, (insert reason here).
These were all of the responses I gave to my daughter’s persistent question, “Mom, can you play house with me?,” before I gave an exasperated “OK.”
Her eyes lit up. “Good! I made you lunch in the toy room, come see!” I trudged up the stairs, annoyed that the baby wasn’t napping, exhausted from being up with the baby three times the …