Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Mommy Fail.
He has blue dry erase marker striping his arms, legs, feet - where it came from, I don't know...and where it is now? Anybody's guess.
She pulls out the very bottom puzzle and the rest come tumbling down in a heap of mixed up pieces. Her eyes flicker to mine. "Oops." I stoop, squishing the bowling ball of baby in my abdomen, help her pick it all up.
Math is a battle ground of complaining (his) and sarcasm (mine). A late reminder of a Little League uniform needing cleaning, stuck at the bottom of weekend trip laundry pile buzzes like a fly of irritation. Sister pushes toddler too hard on his sit n' scoot. The back of his head smacks the wood floor, and he screams.
Its May, and still the warmth of Spring evades. I keep thinking, if I could just breathe...if I could just throw windows open and warm my face in the sun, maybe then this would feel easier somehow. The clouds lay low in the sky and we have to turn on lamps to read. Irritation gnaws at me as the littlest 2 fight over a book.
Perhaps the hardest part is knowing that I am the grown up here - that I am held up as the shining example of how to behave, how to live, how to act and re-act. I hear my son use harsh words to his sister, and I bristle with the knowledge of where he learned to talk like that...not from some kid at school, but from his very own mother. And when I see their attitude towards work, I know where they learned it - the long sighs I let out at having to clean up yet another sticky mess. I know I am their teacher, not just of Math and Spelling and Reading, but of more important lessons - how to treat others, how to work diligently, how to speak love.
Its all encompassing, this job, this life. Most days are so full, not just with the work of keeping on top of school, housework, meals, etc, but with the growth of self, watching myself in the mirrors that are my children. And it can all feel a bit hopeless...one step forward, one back. Words I'm not proud of fly. Harsh ones, words that cut and destroy. A day that I just cannot seem to get on top of. A day of failures.
A day that shows, with blinding truth, how much I truly need the Grace I've been given. And at the end of it all, when I kiss and apologize to each little one, its Grace that wipes it all away.
Tomorrow is a new day, with brilliant sunshine in the forecast, and a clean slate to begin with. Grace.
Labels:
encouragement,
gratitude,
Honesty,
kids,
Mothering
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