We started the night with good intentions. Really, when do you ever not start out with good intentions? Nobody wakes up and says, “Today I’m going to have a terrible day. Today I’m going to lose my patience. Today I’m going to say things I’ll regret.”
Nope, it doesn’t work that way, but somehow our best intentions sometimes morph into a reality at the other end of the spectrum.
Going a full day without butting horns with my certain trial child would be a miracle. I pray for those miracles every day. Last night, the phrase “piece of work” actually escaped under my whispered breath as the child walked away and the other one smiled in complete agreement. P.O.W. Yes, that was the only kind way to describe her, and hardly kind at that. I know we’re all born with our own unique set of gifts and trials and quirky personality traits and flaws and potential and wonder. I get that. But sometimes I struggle with the package. It’s stronger than I’ve seen in most anyone I know, and truthfully, it’s a little scary. I feel inept at times, challenged much of the time, and perplexed too often.
This followed by more frustrations about instrument practicing. Turn the TV off. Please get in the shower. Are your clothes ready for tomorrow? Stop doing that to your sister. There’s no need to talk to me like that. That couch is not a toy. Please be kind. Be kind. Be kind. Be kind….
Fast forward an hour…
At the end of one of the most restless family scripture reading sessions I can remember – again, a night laced with good intentions - I had used all my love and logic tricks and was at a loss. I could have sworn the kids were on speed, but I know better. It was attention deficit super duper hyperactivity disorder to the max in the upstairs loft of the Brown house. Ants in their pants. The kind of chaos you’d laugh about on America’s Funniest Home Videos. There was intentional tripping, blatant disrespect, sassiness, whining, fatigue, teasing, back talk, threatenings, crossing over the imaginary lines…I told Ryan that I was reminded of Elder Bednar’s classic conference talk about perseverance and consistency. "He's breathing my air!"
I’ve been known to occasionally do a reenactment of a particularly funny tantrum, just so they can see how ridiculous it looks. I almost caved last night and took the stage. But then I thought better of it. It was too funny and I wasn’t sure I could do it justice.
After the third “tuck” of a certain child who couldn’t stay in bed (so not normal), and after providing some much needed counseling to a tearful child who felt incredibly unpopular at school that day, I finally made it back to my room. As the late night finally came to an end, I wished, for many reasons, that I could have do-overs.
Do-overs. Remember those? How do you earn a do-over anyway? I guess you finally shut your lids, wake up with puffy eyes, roll to your knees, and pray even harder for the miracles, for the forgiveness, for the patience, and for the determination to be better. Then you strap on your shoes and let the asphalt absorb your stride as the miles help clear the mind.
Nope, it doesn’t work that way, but somehow our best intentions sometimes morph into a reality at the other end of the spectrum.
Going a full day without butting horns with my certain trial child would be a miracle. I pray for those miracles every day. Last night, the phrase “piece of work” actually escaped under my whispered breath as the child walked away and the other one smiled in complete agreement. P.O.W. Yes, that was the only kind way to describe her, and hardly kind at that. I know we’re all born with our own unique set of gifts and trials and quirky personality traits and flaws and potential and wonder. I get that. But sometimes I struggle with the package. It’s stronger than I’ve seen in most anyone I know, and truthfully, it’s a little scary. I feel inept at times, challenged much of the time, and perplexed too often.
This followed by more frustrations about instrument practicing. Turn the TV off. Please get in the shower. Are your clothes ready for tomorrow? Stop doing that to your sister. There’s no need to talk to me like that. That couch is not a toy. Please be kind. Be kind. Be kind. Be kind….
Fast forward an hour…
At the end of one of the most restless family scripture reading sessions I can remember – again, a night laced with good intentions - I had used all my love and logic tricks and was at a loss. I could have sworn the kids were on speed, but I know better. It was attention deficit super duper hyperactivity disorder to the max in the upstairs loft of the Brown house. Ants in their pants. The kind of chaos you’d laugh about on America’s Funniest Home Videos. There was intentional tripping, blatant disrespect, sassiness, whining, fatigue, teasing, back talk, threatenings, crossing over the imaginary lines…I told Ryan that I was reminded of Elder Bednar’s classic conference talk about perseverance and consistency. "He's breathing my air!"
I’ve been known to occasionally do a reenactment of a particularly funny tantrum, just so they can see how ridiculous it looks. I almost caved last night and took the stage. But then I thought better of it. It was too funny and I wasn’t sure I could do it justice.
After the third “tuck” of a certain child who couldn’t stay in bed (so not normal), and after providing some much needed counseling to a tearful child who felt incredibly unpopular at school that day, I finally made it back to my room. As the late night finally came to an end, I wished, for many reasons, that I could have do-overs.
Do-overs. Remember those? How do you earn a do-over anyway? I guess you finally shut your lids, wake up with puffy eyes, roll to your knees, and pray even harder for the miracles, for the forgiveness, for the patience, and for the determination to be better. Then you strap on your shoes and let the asphalt absorb your stride as the miles help clear the mind.
Kelli you are great and we have all been there. I appreciate your perspective. I agree the only way for a do over is to try harder the next day and keep on trekking.
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh - did you read my blog this week? You have company with this post. With me being sick it's been so much more chaotic from 4 or 5 until 8 or 9. I hear ya. And Elder Bednar's talk is the exact one I think of every time too. :) Keep up the good work. Love ya!
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