Yesterday was an epically sucky day.
Started off, a smidgen after 8 am with my oldest freaking out because of the unexpected snow and the fact that she had to drive in it.
Called her daddy. Crisis averted cause the roads weren’t bad.
Then another kid comes running upstairs when I have one eyeball open and announces that another kid is screaming in his ear and calling him names over cereal.
Cereal. Arguing over how pathetic it is that he is eating cereal.
I tell one kid to leave and eat his breakfast. I call the name calling child upstairs.
This child has not even fully entered my door before wails and tears and screaming occurred.
It is now 8:05.
I stop this child mid-diatribe and I tell said child to just put her nose in a corner until she can pull it together enough for me to utter a word.
I pray for the Lord to gird me up. Gird. Me. Up. Cement the armor of God on my body where no RAD crowbar can pry it off.
I finish my prayer and tell her to come and try again to calmly LISTEN to me (though she wanted to speak….loudly and with fervor and hair flipping).
I tell her to simply answer yes or no.
“Did you scream at said child?”
“NO…*snot tears hair flipping*”
“Did you raise your voice and yell at this child at close proximity?”
“YES…*foot stomping, hand on hip, straining to get out another tear. I told him he was PATHETIC.”
“Were you going to eat the cereal?”
“No, I was eating something else! But he……*stopped her right there*”
“So, you were standing close by, screaming he is pathetic….over cereal that you were not even eating.”
“Yes, but *stopped her right there because now we are talking about how dad isn’t fair amongst the kids and how she doesn’t like to do chores and that no one loves her.”
“Okay, so here is the thing. The cereal wasn’t in your hand, in your mouth and you were eating something else when you decide that though you don’t want it, you don’t want him to have it because someone else might potentially, in the next week or so want that particular cereal and you hollered….calling names. I will not discuss any other matter. We are discussing this matter. You will go downstairs, apologize, do your chores, do your homework and then earn 500 points for not being nice. There will be no stomping, spitting, name calling, dirty looks, door slamming or dish crashing.”
Then another kid didn’t want to do his work. He sits there and says he would rather run up and down my stairs, do chores, OR stand in the corner. I put him in the corner. I gave most of the kids permission to go outside and enjoy the snow while I talked to my M.O.M. while cooking my kale chips.
Boo comes flying in soaking wet from what looks like rain. It wasn’t rain, it wasn’t snow, he didn’t jump into the pond….the pipes had burst in the pump house. My M.O.M. quickly said call me back. I call Big Daddy *furious* and then I go on the hunt for not one, not two, not three, not even four but FIVE breaker boxes to figure out which breaker turns off the pump.
No luck. Looks like Old Faithful with Boo standing there helplessly going “mom….the pipe pieces are everywhere.” (Let’s not negate the fact we just had the whole thing replaced last summer with a guy that looks like Dog the Bounty Hunter. “Dog” must have *really* liked me because about a month after he fixed the well (costing an arm and a leg), he called me at like 7 am on a Sunday morning asking me to go to P-town with him to pick out lingerie cause he wanted to touch my boobs. I simply told him to hang on a second and he could ask my husband if he minded….conversation ended real quick. Apparently, he didn’t want to talk to my husband about touching my boobs.
John comes and finds the breaker and turns it off. It is really bad….nothing I can do about it now. I tell the kid who doesn’t want to do his schoolwork to take dogs out and eat lunch, then he can go take a nap and after nap, we would finish his schoolwork.
He took a nap.
Then he did something stupid.
John and Pam scared.
My mom has called a half dozen times (after the fact) and is still crying.
It was sucky. It was horrible. It is now okay. God is still good. I am calm. I drank a route 44 coke.
I may not have a perfect life. I may seem like I don’t know what I’m doing. I may appear a little crazy.
Those who have never jumped in my skin and walked around in it and never had life issues that I have had (or am dealing with)….do not judge me.
Do not look at me like I’m unfit.
Do not question my parenting.
Love without judgement.
Love with grace.
Leave the rest to Jesus.
For those who stood (and continue to stand) by me, in the journey that I am walking, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Remember, those who stand in judgement, one day, I may be holding your hand through the ashes because I’ve already been down that road.
I may already have the scars to prove that I’ve been down that road.
I may be the only one who loves, stands by you, supports, and doesn’t judge you.
I, through the grace of God, may lead you from ashes to beauty.
Keep that in mind.
Off soapbox and back onto healthy living.
Weeping may come in the night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5