While waiting at Supercuts this morning for Isaac to get his haircut, a sweet, older lady entered the waiting area, completely intrigued by my four lovely angels! She commented on how well-dressed they were, how beautifully styled the girls' hair was with curly bows perfectly matching their outfits, and then she turned her intrigue to me, their mother.
"Oh bless your little heart. You must be the most patient person I've ever met. You seem so calm with them!"
Little did she know, by that time in the mid-morning when she uttered that compliment, I had already blown my top at least 15 times. Little more did she know, that by bedtime, my top blew at least another 55 times!
I'm not sure that my typical four Advil would cure the shouting induced headache that I am suffering this evening. It may lessen the redness of the shouting induced burst blood vessels in the whites of my eyes, but the headache, not a chance.
It never ceases to amaze me, that the very thing my children do to throw me over the edge, I too, take part in. Shouting....it's such an ugly past-time!
Every night, after tucking my kids into bed, I promise myself that tomorrow will be different. I ask God for an unexplainable patience with my kids. In fact, I even pray the prayer so my children can hear. I retire to my bed, convinced that the patience will be there in the morning.
And then, just like the day before, and the 365 days before that, by 7:00 am the next morning, I'm wrestling with my patience and losing the fight!
Through clenched teeth, I'm reminding the girls to keep their voices down while others are still asleep in the house. Through clenched teeth, I'm demanding my fluffy pillow be returned to me, for in fact, it is mine, and they are in indeed in my bed. Through clenched teeth I am asking them to step away from the stationary bike I am pedaling, for fear that they are going to get caught in the pedals that my angry feet are pedaling so fiercely. I envision myself as E.T., taking flight to the
Logically, I know that raising my voice only escalates the situation. But logic seems to escape me when I'm worn out and my patience has run thin.
What that sweet lady in the waiting area of Supercuts should have said this morning was, "Oh bless your hearts, four little ones. You must have so much patience to love your mommy the way you do, even after the times she's lost control and reprimanded too loudly."
Love is the operative word here. It is my love for my children that washes the slate clean each day. It is my love for my children that erases all the times in the day that they talk back, hit their sibling, spill a plate of food recklessly on the floor, destroy the playroom, wake up grumpy from a nap, throw the mother of all temper tantrums, yada, yada, yada.
In return, it is their love for me that drowns out the shouts of anger that I fire their way. I only wish I could be as forgiving as they are, for they love me, even when I feel unloveable!
2 comments:
Just remind yourself, you did have patients with them even during the toughest parts of your day. They're all still breathing when you tuck them in at night, right??
I don't know how you do it, with four little ones so close at age! I have four, like you know, but at least the two older ones help me out more than they cause problems.
Morgan Freeman in the movie "Evan Almighty" says it best. He says, "God doesn't give you patients just because you ask for it. He gives you situations to test your patients." It seems like he's just giving you LOTS of situations!
I don't know what you're talking about Terrell. Your kids are testing you??
Why did I think that the infant stage was so difficult? Compared to now - there was NOTHING difficult about that age!!
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