Wednesday, June 13, 2012

(In Parenthesis)

This blog was originally posted February 4, 2011. I am reposting 
some of my favorite blogs while we are away on family vacation.

Andy has been out of town this week, so I've been single-mom-ing-it. I think it must have zapped all of my creative energies because I have had complete and total writer's block. I'll sit down to post a blog and...blank...nothing is there.

But, alas, I've had a bit of an "ahah" moment in mothering this week that I thought I could pass along.

Recently I've been noticing an increase in my frustration with my kids. It seems like someone is always crying or whining. There is rarely a time that I buckle them in their carseats that one of them is not upset about something. I wonder why in the world I need to use windex, carpet cleaner, and half a dozen paper towels to clean up after every single meal. It drives me nuts that my walls are all so grimy. I'd like to make it through a bath time without being as wet as the kids in the tub. And for goodness sakes, could you just hold the door for me when I'm carrying 60 pounds of groceries?!?! The list could go on and on.

Any other moms out there feel my pain?

I realized that these little frustrations were beginning to wear on me, affecting my interactions with my kids and how I felt toward them. I've been praying about it so much and reading some "Mom Books" and here is my grand ahah moment...

Put the frustrating moment in parenthesis.

Normally, these moments where I want to pull my hair out and give my 2-weeks notice for motherhood last only about 5-10 minutes. However, I was letting my frustration from them drag on and on all day. When Andy would ask me, "How was your day?" I'd always just look at him with the expression, "Don't ask." But then I realized that it's not my whole day that is horrible. It's these moments. They should not characterize my whole day (or my whole life, for that matter). I've got to isolate those moments in my mind so that I can enjoy the rest of my time with my kids.

I really do enjoy my kids and love them to pieces...85% of the time. (Is that a horrible thing to say?) However, I was not enjoying my kids 85% of the time because I was allowing the 15% ruin everything for everybody. Now I'm trying to take a few deep breaths, truly forgive my child for whatever the offense was, and then put the moment in a time bound set of parenthesis.

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