Moments of Grace: It's OK and We Still Love You

Today has been a particularly cranky day. In contrast to this post in which I speak about the gifts of these days, I have been walking around like an ungrateful grinch. My cranky filter is on. I look at my windows and instead of seeing sun shining through I see grimy hand prints. I open my cupboards and instead of seeing abundance I see doors and handles begging me to wipe them down. There are piles to be sorted, toilets to be scrubbed, and please don't even get me started on the baseboards. The mess of living with small children is something that has the tendency to give me anxiety heart palpitations. Most days I can fight them, today it seems like every mess that needs tending is screaming at me.

The mess cannot be tended to today. I have 4 little people (2 extras, whom I dearly love) who need my care. Just tidying is futile as they follow me around like little hurricanes destroying everything, including things I did not know could be destroyed. They have mouths that need feeding, hands and bums that need wiping, and on top it (GASP) they have emotional needs. They need to be snuggled, affirmed, read to, loved.

With two down for a nap I thought maybe a quick 25 minute workout would help with the mood issue. It seemed too early for wine (I kid, I kid, or do I?). As seems to happen with home workouts, immediate needs become URGENT RIGHT NOW NEEDS and I was interrupted again and again. I snapped. I was incredibly harsh and mean, and told my children that they were soooo annoying and I was soooo tired of them and for 6 more minutes I was focusing on myself. Their little eyes fell and shoulders slumped and they crept off to leave me alone.

Of course I couldn't finish my workout. There was nothing grace-filled, virtuous, or loving in my behavior. It is not a child's fault that they look out the window with hands and noses pressed to it watching the doggies go by. It is not their fault that they open our cupboards with grimy little hands from playtime. It is not their fault that dust and dirt cling to the baseboards in these winter months. It is certainly not their fault that I cannot control my temper when I am having a selfish moment.

And so I went to Liliana's room and opened the door. They were under her covers cuddling and giggling. "I am so sorry my darlings, I shouldn't be a cranky mommy with you. I am sorry and I will try hard not to do it again. Can you forgive me?" "It's OK!" says one. "Yes, it's OK mommy, and we still love you," says the other.

This is why motherhood is such a gift. It sometimes brings out or worst, but our worst brings us to our knees, and our knees bring us to forgiveness and new beginnings.