I allowed Keely to help me pour in the dry ingredients in the "dry ingredients bowl". Then, I turned, and reached into the fridge to grab out the eggs and milk. I spun back around to see Keely reaching into the utensils drawer and snatching out a teaspoon. Again, it's not that her taking the teaspoon is so wrong; it's just that I made it VERY clear that she is NOT touch ANYTHING, unless I asked. (I might have control issues, but we'll save that for another post)
Okay, so my husband has been listening to all of this from the bathroom and he is baffled at my patience with her, and not in a good way. (he's always having to remind me to get on my children as soon as they are doing something I don't like, rather than waiting until I am fuming mad and being irrational) He comes into the kitchen and lays the smack down, pulling her down from the chair and telling her she cannot help me because she is not listening. This ordeal brought my Keely into a all out sob, her whole body shaking as she leaned into me for consoling. I couldn't help it. I just had to hold her close and pull her hair away from her wet face until she was no longer shaking. As irritated as I was just moments before with my ornery two year old, I just couldn't help but have compassion on her. I realized how much it meant to her that she get to be by my side, being a part of what I was doing, and my heart just broke for her.
I reached into the cupboards with the big bowls and grabbed one out. I poured some cheerios into the bowl. I plopped a Tablespoon into the bowl and found the cutest polka dot container I could find. I put them all in front of Keely and told her she could "make her own pancakes, while I made mine". She was thrilled. She scooped tablespoons of cheerios from one container to the other. She joyfully nibbled on one from time to time, without anyone yelling at her. She felt like she had the power to control the things around her, and I felt like I had the power to control how the pancakes were going to turn out. We were both happy.
MY POINT IS THIS
Being a mom is a lot of trial and error. We try what we think will work best, or what will make the little ones happy. Then, if that doesn't work, we try something else. We continue doing this until we find what works for us. The process can be incredibly draining at times, leaving the mom wishing she never tried.
This morning I was aware of the struggle. I had been here many times before. I mean, a year ago I would have shook my head and thrown a pity party, crying out, "I can't even make a freaking pancake anymore! I hate being a mom... (and on and on)" That's where Satan wants me. The enemy has gotten me there more times than I can count. I start the day out on a bad note, and I determine that my day is shot. "Why do I even try!?!" I still struggle with this one. I have really bad days from time to time because of this negative, hopeless way of thinking.
MY STRUGGLE
I wasn't going to go there this particular morning. I would control my thoughts, and my emotions. I can handle this. I took Keely into the bathroom where my husband was getting ready and I had her apologize to him and me, for not listening, and my husband and Keely hugged one another. We reminded Keely (for the umpteenth time) that we loved her, but NEEDED her to listen to us. I took a deep breath and brought Keely back into the kitchen. I smiled at my two year old and told her what a good job she was doing of pouring her cheerios from one container to the other, just like mommy does. I scrambled to get pancakes on plates for everyone before my son headed off to preschool. Then, I quietly applauded myself, for making my son's favorite food, but more importantly for diffusing a frustrating, and then intense, moment in my household. When everyone was done eating and I was just about to sit down to eat my own breakfast, I looked around and saw that everyone in my family was EXTREMELY happy, each returning to what they default to each morning (my husband getting ready in the bathroom, Preston running around making superhero noises, Kipton crawling around on the floor admiring his big brother, and Keely being...well....Keely) :0)
MY PRAYER
This is my struggle, and my prayer. Lord, I am sorry for the times when I let my anxiety get the best of me and my children get the worst of me. I don't always handle my hard times with grace and integrity, and there have been times when the enemy has whispered lies to me that downplayed the importance of my role as a mother, leaving me feeling defeated, and angry. I am aware that these thoughts are not from you. I am not defeated. I will be victorious in my own home. Grant me grace, today, to handle the situations that feel burdensome to me. May the moments that could wear my patience down, instead, be used to bring you glory, as I model for my children a mother who has faith in a Lord that redeems, leads, and loves with compassion and patience. Bring peace into my home, as I actively practice the wisdom and control you impart to me. AMEN.



























