We have a sink! Well, a sink with no water. The littlest touches take the longest time to finish it seems. It’s ever so close and beautiful. It makes me want to stay in this itty bitty house (till I think about where I spend 8 hours a day in my 4′ x 2′ corner of our bedroom to do my “magic”, and the kids sharing a room, and doors that don’t align with their frames, and wood floors that are splintering, and windows that rattle in the wind).
Sonya and Abbie went for a nature hike today. More of a brisk walk. More like a long walk; on a sidewalk, through some trees.
I think Abbie was sour the entire day because she couldn’t wear her school shoes. One thing she did not plan for will corrode her mood the entire day. Lovely, this strong willed child bit. Good joke God, we get it; can we call it a draw, bygones, my bad, move on? Ok. Patience. We all need patience and understanding and forgiveness, so we don’t explode (more than we already do). It’s hard not to feel that everything we do is another scar on the life our children. Irreparable, exhaustive, everlasting damage. Parenting is not only, not for cowards, but not for the sane. I feel crazy for endeavoring to try and raise these beings who must look at me and think; who are you and why are you in my house telling me what to do, I’ll just call you a poopy-fart-brain bucket head to make you laugh and forget you were trying to discipline me, and we’ll call it even, k? God entrusted us with their care, and I feel (we both feel) so inadequate to fulfill this call.
As we fumble about correcting what we’ve said, or screamed, or not said, or not did, we expect to feel the wind from God’s shaking head. But we don’t. We bloody our own noses and often reject the grace inherent in our own children and choose to chide ourselves for things no one is immune to. Please God, allow us to gratefully accept your grace, and grow in our children, despite ourselves.
I somehow have rug burn on my shoulder. Erg. Ouch.