Once upon a time...

Once upon a time there was a mommy who needed a time out. Right at the very moments that her children needed her the most... she was impatient, rough, and voicing frustration. You know, the very things she had been training her children NOT to do that very morning. Upon putting her babes down for a very quick nap, after a very disastrous few minutes, she sat back and realized how very dependent she was on the Lord's Grace, Mercy and Love in her life. And how she has some forgiveness to ask for when the babes wake.

True story. My day thus far. :(

6:30 my littlest girl woke up and needed some cuddle time. We snuggled in my bed until the sun came up and she just enjoys laying right near me, cozy, warm, with her momma. Tho, I think I love it a little more then she. :) Once we made our way downstairs the rest of the family joined us the chaos began. Breakfast, make coffee, check the planner {did I miss paying a bill, again?!}, get everyone dressed, get ready, get set, go. Play date time! But, before we even make it out the door I hear crying from another room. Daddy's birthday balloon had been used as a weapon and upon entering the room I see the older guilty party looking at me, mouth gaping, with the knowing she was in trouble. After dealing with the situation - I really didn't understand why the little was reacting this way to a silly helium balloon bouncing on her head. It is just a light, little, balloon. On and on she wept - rubbing her eye - and the tears just fell. My mom mind took this as an up too late night before, teething 18 month old, ending a cold... over dramatic. Right?

We load into the van and everyone is now excited about our play time at a friends house. Oldest reminds me of all the toys her friend has to play with, and little one, though still rubbing her eye, seems to be enjoying the Christmas music playing on the radio. We'd be OK. A few minutes into our play time - and half a cup of coffee finished - the tears start to fall again from my babe. She's just rubbing the eye and snotting and crying. I look at the eye and it's a little puffy, a little tear filled, goopy maybe. The tears turn into screaming and she appears to be angry or in pain - but because she can't tell me... I'm bouncing, shushing, rocking, and trying to distract. Nothing is working.

She needs me to know what she wants. And all I can think of is... I was really looking forward to having a conversation with my friends today. {hmph}

A call to the pediatrician and further inspection of the eye show that she might have a cut on it, from the balloon string. Which, infuriates me, and makes me frown at my 3 year old. She knows better! And why do they always wait until we are out of the room to pull these shenanigans?! Then came the melt down and screaming when it was time to leave. Even though we talked about this before we got there. She rehearsed the lines, " I promise I will not scream when you say its time to go". Lies. 3 year old lies. So we scramble and tidy up and load up children, gulp down the last drink of now cold coffee, forget the shoes... just get to the van! And inside I'm pouting about my missed conversation time, my needy children, and this cut in the eye that must be seen by a doctor right at 1:40 - the middle of nap time. So we drive home and the van is quiet because I won't let anyone talk, and by now I'm mad. I'm mad about screaming disobedience, balloon strings cutting baby eyes, and even more mad at how selfish I feel at this moment. In my children's moments of greatest need - I fail. I can't pull up the patience. I can't find the well of humility and tenderness. Even when my big girl is saying, "but I'm sorry Mommy". I nod and say "I forgive you", but still feel grumpy.

In 20 minutes I'll wake them both back up. A measly hour nap for the littlest {normally 3 to 4}, and.. yep, the oldest is still over there awake in her bed. So, no nap for her. I already dread the drive, the waiting room, the doctor prodding into the 18 month old eye.

And yet, strangely, I wouldn't change this for anything. I have so much to learn. And these children are part of my refining. They were made for me. I can choose to have joy, and keep on giving, and have a good attitude and fish up more mercy... because it's already been given to me. And this selfish ache in my heart is a choice. I can focus on myself or I can focus on Christ, on truth, on the need of the now. So I'm trying. I'm fighting for it and I won't give up - because these babies are worth it and ultimately my savior is worth it. So I  fight. Not with a sword but with my heart - it's deceitful and it thinks today is all about me.

On days like today I'm so thankful that I know this story of life has a happy ending, for those who know Him. In the meantime... pray for my wee one, her eye, and that some miraculous healing happened during her puny little nap?