And on top of everything else, a migraine. Incapacitated another night. Another night when Kevin picks up my slack. Another night when the children watch an hour of Sesame Street instead of doing something more constructive and less passive. Another night when I’m not the mama God created me to be. Another night when I just have to lie there in pain and let it be.
And then this morning, the pain is better; not gone, but better.
But the fighting.
The bickering! The “I want it my way and I absolutely will not compromise or capitulate or comply with anyone’s wishes but my own.” And it’s about SUCH ridiculous stuff–the girls unloading the dishwasher. One on the step ladder putting them away, one handing them to her from the dishwasher. The one on the floor wants the other to get down and let her put something in the drawer, only to then make her climb back up the ladder.
One child coloring, not letting the other child use the book she’s not even using. Screaming ensues.
Mama asks one child to get the wipes. Another child bursts into loud bitter wails; “I WANT TO GET THEM!”
Mama at her limit.
I’ve talked and talked and talked about selfishness. I’ve taught verses about putting others before yourself; as far as it is up to you, get along with others; love does not demand its own way. I’ve been gentle. I’ve been kind. I’ve prayed.
I lost my temper. I yelled. I lashed out. I may have even screamed a little. I certainly was not a good example.
But finally, contrition. Finally, reaching her heart. Finally, change; changed attitudes.
I know this is NOT what my home to be. I want peace. I want to gently reprimand and obedience to immediately follow. I want their upbringing to be gentle. I want my voice to be soft. I want it to be different.