Tonight, I feel tired. Exhausted, actually. Irritable.
Now, I hope it’s obvious just how much I love my kids. How proud I am to be a mom.
Except I’m not feeling a whole bunch of those fuzzy emotions at the moment.
Today, my kids were whiney. Unappreciative. Expectant. Lazy. They fought incessantly and almost seem to look for opportunities to frustrate their sibling to the point of tears. And then there’s the leaving the back door open when the air conditioning is on and letting in the flies, kicking their muddy boots off as they’re running through the kitchen, tying multicolored yarn all through the house like a spider web so you trip while trying to get to the bathroom, and Jack demanding to know where *I* left his baseball mitt. How much can a girl take?!?
This morning, my oldest asked if he could have some of my smoothie. Just as he does every morning. Of course. But when he finished it, he just lazily let the glass cup slide out of his hands and onto the floor. Surprised to see such a blatant act, I asked him to put it in the sink. Oh, my word. You would have thought I was asking him to pluck off his own fingernails. The complaining, whining, the “but I didn’t know I had to put it in the sink” cry and flailing himself on the floor. Sheesh. I gave a quick speech about how we all have jobs to do around the house because we’re part of a family and we don’t make unnecessary work for others. “But I thought you LIKED cleaning, Mom!!!” he whined.
This is why, I’m learning, God gave my kids dimples. And long eyelashes. Because those things prevent me from going off the handle every time they do or say something so completely thoughtless.
Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. That’s a fact. It’s exhausting. It’s thankless. No one notices what you do until you stop doing it (or if there’s an interruption of service.) You sift through hours of slave labor, meal schedules and laundry to get one smile, one “I love you!” or even just the sight of one of them sharing with their sibling. I’m not excusing the selfless nature of mothers; I knew what I was signing up for. I’m just so tired of it not improving. The worry that it will never change. The idea of me raising such entitled kids who expect life to be served on a silver platter.
As a teacher, I want to TEACH. To instruct. To impart knowledge with the intent of my kids personalizing and applying these concepts to their lives. But I’m just not seeing much progress today.
Just one of those days.
I’ve only been a mom for a little more than six years, but that’s long enough to know that these feelings pass. Better yet, these feelings of frustration lead to Mom taking action. To see that I don’t have One of Those Days again tomorrow.
Before I go to sleep, I’m going to brainstorm a list of chores, family activities and verses of Scripture for all of us to memorize. And then I’m going to get lost in another sewing project. To unwind. And I’ll probably have some unnecessary sugar too. Because tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow we will work together as a family. Tomorrow we will foster a heart of gratitude.
And if not, at least I’ve got chocolate.