Tantrums, Grease, And Poop

I raise my voice, "I already told you once, go get dressed for the day!" Little feet franticly run back to their bedroom and quickly find an outfit. But the outfit isn't complete without the belt. The belt is wet, left out overnight and drenched by the sprinklers; and of course, it's my fault. It was one of those mornings, my patience was far from my thinking and everyone in the house felt it. Mom's ship was tight, there was no room for bad attitudes or complaining.

Elias' swim diaper was nowhere to be found and my only clean shirt that fits over my nine month watermelon shaped belly managed to get grease stains from our over-easy egg breakfast. While trying to pile into the car for grocery shopping and swim class, Elias was smacking me in the face because he's two and he knows what he wants. He didn't want to be in the car.

Stop. Breath. Turn up the music. Grip the steering wheel. I sit for a moment, think about my ungrateful heart; In all things give thanks. I am being robbed of joy because my morning isn't going as I planned. My tone is ugly and unloving and my family is uneasy around me.

After grocery shopping we head to the pool for Elias' swim lessons. I buy a new swim diaper and watch him carefully as he begins his class. I'm not watching for his latest swim techniques, I'm watching for the red-grunt face. He has this habit of pooping in the pool (little punk!). It's like he saves it all morning just so he can see his mommy fly to the side of the pool red-faced and embarrassed. Today topped them all. My son, single handedly cleared the pool.

Stop. Breath. In all things give thanks.

I am a mom, that alone is something to be thankful for. I was given a morning that was a little more than a challenge then usual, but I have so much to find joy in. The bad attitudes, the grease stains, the smacks to the face by an independent two-year-old, the child who won't stop pooping in the pool. All are little markings of what I've been given. If I don't see the joy in today then I am missing out.

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© 2014 Natalie Falls