Today was a typical cram-too-much/get-nothing-accomplished day. At first my schedule seemed a little thin, no work, no coffee dates, no urgent agendas; and then dam burst. Car issues left me the sole driver for three individuals, a friend from out of town that I see very rarely wanted to meet, and my old boss wanted me to stop by and clean his home and reprogram his remote. That list may not seem like a very long one, but each of those items took a good chunk of time out of my day. Granted, I had scheduled a few slightly selfish things in my day off like napping and reading, but I was really looking forward to both of those activities.
By the time I made it home on my day off, a trip to the pizza parlor was all I could think of for dinner, my shoulders ached for no apparent reason, and my martyred mommy persona was starting to make another appearance. I do so much for everyone else, wah, wah, wah!
I stopped myself before I commented on the stack of dirty dishes that my children had loving left for me to do (sarcasm). I stopped myself before I raged at the muddy footprints that had been left with such care on the carpet (more sarcasm). And I stopped myself before I snapped at the fruit-of-my-womb for laundry that they had graciously piled in the laundry room for me to trip over on my way in the house (you guessed it, more sarcasm). I simply smiled at them and reminded them that the rules didn’t change when they went to college/boot camp/Christmas Break. They were a part of the family and they had jobs to do. And if they wanted pizza, they would get up and do those jobs. Amazingly, things were cleaned up in a matter of minutes.
I chose to let myself be taken out of my day that wasn’t the kid’s fault. How many times in the past would I take out a bad day on those around me because I thought I somehow deserved better? I assumed that my family could read my mind and know what tasks I wanted done before I came in the door. I would blow up in a fit of righteous indignation because I was so put upon (cry me a river, right?). My children deserve a mom who makes her wishes known and expects results. No harsh words were exchanged, but the jobs got done. The pizza wasn’t even cold when they finally got to eat.
Don’t get me wrong, my kids need to be more responsible, but the yelling from mom has got to stop! I am slowly evolving into the person God has called me to be and when I make it through a challenging day without fireworks or waterworks, I count it as a win.
I know I am not perfect and I need to extend that grace to those in my life that I care about instead of demanding perfectionistic standards from everyone around me. Hopefully, the next time I have an overwhelming day, the kids won’t need as much prompting to do their chores. We’ll see.
In the meantime, love and chaos reign in this house! Actually, God does, but you get the point.
I am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.