I know everyone has off days, we can’t just have everything running along all smooth and perfect all the time, that would be boring.
So yesterday was one of those days.
Those days where things don’t go right, and I doubt the choices I’ve made in my life and as a wife and as a mother and as a friend, blah, blah, blah, right?
After the third, yes, count it up, the THIRD time my boys got into a mess so awful that I had to bathe them to clean them up, I was aaaallll out of patience. I put my boys in the bath and did a quick wipe down of the bathroom.
Then Oligater screamed and coughed and sputtered.
What kind of kid looks at a water squirter and says to himself, “Hmmm. I wonder what will happen if I fill this with water and squirt it up my brother’s nose?”
I’ll tell ya….MY kid.
After reassuring Oligater and taking the toy from Mr B., I walked out of the bathroom and into the spare room, hit my knees and just started praying.
It was more like a one-sided conversation than an actual, normal prayer, but it was one heart-felt conversation.
Heavenly Father, why do my kids fight? Why can’t they understand that they are siblings and they are supposed to love each other? Are they deaf? Do I need to have their hearing tested? Because sometimes I think my kids can’t hear what I’m saying to them. I could really, REALLY use a little patience right now, Lord, because I’m plum out and still have 3 hours left with these little urchins…I mean precious gifts from you.
I could hear Oligater shouting, “Done. Done. DONE.” from the bathroom and I ended with;
I KNOW that I can do a better job, and since I am trying so, SO hard not to yell at my kids, and I know that it’s the right thing to do and that it’s what YOU want me to do….please help me this evening with being a good, patient, loving mom. Please. (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE).
I finished up and heard something strange.
Mr. B was talking to Oligater and telling him to lay down to get his diaper on. Then I heard Mr. B ask Oligater if he wanted some lotion, to which Oli said, “yes”.
Then I heard, “Wait, no…that’s toooo much. Just a little bit, NO, not THAT much. Oligater, stop…that’s a LOT of lotion! Ok, spread it on your tummy…good job!”
And by that time I was in the bedroom, looking at two dripping wet boys who were covered in homemade vanilla scented lotion.
It looked a little like this:
And if a helpful 6-year-old, a 2-year-old, a comforter, carpeted floor, and sliding mirrored doors covered in an entire bottle of vanilla lotion doesn’t help you to learn a little patience, I don’t know what will!!!