Claim Joy, Take 2
OK, so Sunday I have this epiphany. I need to wake up to my day more deliberately. I need to get up early enough to sort through my emotions, my burdens, and my tasks. I need to pray long and look for the ways I can be thankful. Then and only then am I ready to be mom extraordinaire.
Um, right.
What happens when the baby wakes up at two and at six wanting to eat? What happens when he's soaked up to his armpits through two layers of pajamas and his bed sheets are wet and he's crying? What then? I emerged into this morning about as gracefully as a tractor trailer in a china shop.
Well, after scooping him up, stripping his bed, stripping him, handing him into a steamy bathroom for Mark to quick bathe while he was getting himself ready for work, and groping in the dark for clean clothes for him (so I wouldn't wake the girls with a light on upstairs), I climbed back into bed and said, "Let's start over. Let's pretend that didn't happen."
Mark handed me a warm, clean baby. And I snugged that little body in tight and tried to erase the rude awakening.
Hard to do.
But I re-woke up with a better mindset and a new determination to start the day right.
Right.
E. was in slllllooooowww motion this morning. We had a doctor's appointment at 9 a.m., and she was not interested in taking part in that at all. Shots? No, thank you. And her pace said it all. By the end of the getting out the door fiasco, this is what I heard, "Mommy, sometimes I think I'm a bad person." Ugh.
"You're not a bad person, honey. Sometimes I get frustrated with your behavior, and sometimes I'm not patient, but that does not make you a bad person. When you feel that way, think about how you can change your behavior so you're doing the right thing."
Great, I've damaged my five year old.
A. used the toilet all by herself five times yesterday and had only one accident! We called it Operation Underpants, we had a dance, a song, chocolate chips in a jar, and a sticker chart. I spent the day congratulating myself on the effort. And I thought we were in the toilet training homestretch after such success. This morning she woke up and wanted nothing to do with potty training. No, no, and more no with some scream on the side is what I got from her instead. Super.
How's that epiphany working out I asked myself? Intentional parenting out the window. Survival mode mama takes over and I'm mechanically moving through my morning just to get closer to its end--putting out fires, disciplining between gritted teeth, trying hard not to lose my temper and not succeeding.
The silver lining is that I made the uncharacteristic move of letting myself off the hook after that not so shining mama morning. I had done my best, I woke up earlier, I thought and prayed about my day, I reminded myself to look for reasons that affirm my choice to stay home full time, instead of focusing on the things that make me feel out of control and just plain batty. I had done all those things and the cards still stacked against me.
No matter. I let the stress of a hard morning, a stressful doctor's appointment, a grouchy receptionist, and an obstinate two year old fall off like scales for the rest of the day. We ate donuts, and played with the musical, singing, light-up Christmas gadgets in Hallmark. We ate lunch laying in the sun out front, and watched a caterpillar twist and curl on a leaf for longer than usual. We looked for scary stories at the library in honor of Halloween. We ate pancakes for dinner. We wrestled on the beds. We turned out all the lights early to watch (battery-operated) Halloween candles flicker in the kitchen--thanks Hallmark! We watched television instead of reading books before bed. We sang songs in the dark and said what we were thankful for and called it a day. I rocked a baby to sleep in my arms.
Magical. An ordinary not-so-good day. And look what it held. Imagine what a good day could hold. Reason enough to get up again tomorrow.
Maybe waking slowly is a luxury I can't afford right now. Maybe it just doesn't exist. Maybe it's a mindset and not a dimly lit house with the smell of coffee wafting under my nose. Although I'd take the latter in a hot second, I'd need a full-time maid to get up an hour before me and set the mood. So, I'll go back to stumbling into my day, but I can keep doing heart work. I can keep trying to give thanks for the new day no matter what it gives.
We'll see how it goes.
Um, right.
What happens when the baby wakes up at two and at six wanting to eat? What happens when he's soaked up to his armpits through two layers of pajamas and his bed sheets are wet and he's crying? What then? I emerged into this morning about as gracefully as a tractor trailer in a china shop.
Well, after scooping him up, stripping his bed, stripping him, handing him into a steamy bathroom for Mark to quick bathe while he was getting himself ready for work, and groping in the dark for clean clothes for him (so I wouldn't wake the girls with a light on upstairs), I climbed back into bed and said, "Let's start over. Let's pretend that didn't happen."
Mark handed me a warm, clean baby. And I snugged that little body in tight and tried to erase the rude awakening.
Hard to do.
But I re-woke up with a better mindset and a new determination to start the day right.
Right.
E. was in slllllooooowww motion this morning. We had a doctor's appointment at 9 a.m., and she was not interested in taking part in that at all. Shots? No, thank you. And her pace said it all. By the end of the getting out the door fiasco, this is what I heard, "Mommy, sometimes I think I'm a bad person." Ugh.
"You're not a bad person, honey. Sometimes I get frustrated with your behavior, and sometimes I'm not patient, but that does not make you a bad person. When you feel that way, think about how you can change your behavior so you're doing the right thing."
Great, I've damaged my five year old.
A. used the toilet all by herself five times yesterday and had only one accident! We called it Operation Underpants, we had a dance, a song, chocolate chips in a jar, and a sticker chart. I spent the day congratulating myself on the effort. And I thought we were in the toilet training homestretch after such success. This morning she woke up and wanted nothing to do with potty training. No, no, and more no with some scream on the side is what I got from her instead. Super.
How's that epiphany working out I asked myself? Intentional parenting out the window. Survival mode mama takes over and I'm mechanically moving through my morning just to get closer to its end--putting out fires, disciplining between gritted teeth, trying hard not to lose my temper and not succeeding.
The silver lining is that I made the uncharacteristic move of letting myself off the hook after that not so shining mama morning. I had done my best, I woke up earlier, I thought and prayed about my day, I reminded myself to look for reasons that affirm my choice to stay home full time, instead of focusing on the things that make me feel out of control and just plain batty. I had done all those things and the cards still stacked against me.
No matter. I let the stress of a hard morning, a stressful doctor's appointment, a grouchy receptionist, and an obstinate two year old fall off like scales for the rest of the day. We ate donuts, and played with the musical, singing, light-up Christmas gadgets in Hallmark. We ate lunch laying in the sun out front, and watched a caterpillar twist and curl on a leaf for longer than usual. We looked for scary stories at the library in honor of Halloween. We ate pancakes for dinner. We wrestled on the beds. We turned out all the lights early to watch (battery-operated) Halloween candles flicker in the kitchen--thanks Hallmark! We watched television instead of reading books before bed. We sang songs in the dark and said what we were thankful for and called it a day. I rocked a baby to sleep in my arms.
Magical. An ordinary not-so-good day. And look what it held. Imagine what a good day could hold. Reason enough to get up again tomorrow.
Maybe waking slowly is a luxury I can't afford right now. Maybe it just doesn't exist. Maybe it's a mindset and not a dimly lit house with the smell of coffee wafting under my nose. Although I'd take the latter in a hot second, I'd need a full-time maid to get up an hour before me and set the mood. So, I'll go back to stumbling into my day, but I can keep doing heart work. I can keep trying to give thanks for the new day no matter what it gives.
We'll see how it goes.