Well, I survived the week, but the last few days have been doozys in this house! For starters, my youngest who is not quite 2 has perfected the art of escaping her crib. Nap time is usually “me-time” for mommy but the other day it was spent running up and down the stairs with my cutie-pie in tow, attempting to make her stay put. Who needs a tread-climber & a trainer when you have 12 steps and a disagreeable toddler?! Naturally, my 5 year old followed suit and found great pleasure in watching me grow more and more aggravated. After two grueling hours of this song and dance, I gave in.
For those of you whose children are perfect nappers or are just as pleasant without one, do not talk to me. My girls are like something from a horror film when they don’t get their mid-day siesta. I spent the rest of my day listening to constant bickering, whining and fit-throwing. I had two very disgruntled shadows on my heels as I tried to prepare dinner, tidy the house and finish the laundry that was starting to resemble Mount Everest.
Finally dinner was served. By the time I finished fixing the last kid plate, the oldest were licking their bowls right about the moment my butt hit the seat. My daughter started out towards the kitchen with my favorite hand-painted bowl in her hand. In slow motion fashion, my beautiful bowl went flying out of her hands and shattered against the hardwood floors sending shards of glass from one end of the room to the other. My boy’s heads snapped in my direction. I could read their eyes, they were thinking, “Momma is going to kill her!” I just stared blankly at my girl who resembled a deer caught in the headlights. No one uttered a word. As I deliberately slowed my breathing, two phrases played on repeat inside my head, “It was an accident. Don’t yell at her. It was an accident. DON’T YELL AT HER!” This momma needed a word:
“Fools vent their anger, but the wise quietly hold it back.”
(Proverbs 29:11 NLT)
Very calmly, I pushed aside my plate and sent all the kids away. Then I could clean up the mess in private so they wouldn’t see the steam spraying from my ears. Crisis avoided. Later that night we joked that from this point forward, Autumn would only be allowed to use plastic.
Fast forward to the following morning, as if a part of some deep conspiracy, all five of my children were in a mood…or maybe it was just me, who knows. Isabella woke up with a list of demands, screaming at the fridge, “I want apple juice!” Too bad kiddo, I already poured milk.
We went tearing out the front door, late of course. I managed to get the older 3 to school without too much drama. I was unbuckling my girls and my bonus baby, (I babysit), when Isabella’s face started to scrunch up. “Bella, you ok?” Too late. Like a seen from The Exorcist, she threw-up her entire cup of milk. On me, all over her and across the entire back section of my Suburban. Nice. I could almost hear her saying, “I told you so” as thoughts of her request for juice instead of milk ran through my head.
Straight to the tub, clothes and all, while I call a friend in for back-up to run big sister to preschool. Nearly two hours later, we’re both fresh & clean, the car is airing out, the washing machine is working in overdrive. All is right with the world once more.
The moral of this story, ain’t no use crying over broken china, spilt milk or in my case…spewed milk. Shooting off into orbit when life’s MANY annoyances come your way will only make this journey more painful for you and everyone around you. Try to stay focused on the positive and when that doesn’t work, I have found that a nice long scream into the nearest pillow works wonders.