I overslept Wednesday (which I haven't done in AGES!!). I knew I couldn't rush Mr. Fun, so I resigned myself to being late and tried to sweetly coax him out of bed. Well that didn't work and again he was a mess. Dustin came home from work in time to help me get his clothes on him and get him to in the car. Breakfast was a PB&J in the car and we were late for school again. Crazy thoughts are flying through my head at this point. Am I a bad Mom? Is he feeling the stress of our family sharing a car this month? Is he not sleeping well? Is he getting sick? Is he not having a good experience with school? What is going on with my kid???
Today, Thursday, was the final day in his school week. He managed to sneak into my bed sometime around 5 am and was snuggled close when the alarm went off at 6:30. I cringed for a moment until he grinned at me and popped out of bed and took off running for his room. I proceeded to stumble to the coffee pot, and was met by my smiling boy who was fully dressed. He says Aren't you proud of me? I sure was. No screaming, no arguing, just a peaceful morning. The ride to school was pleasant, even if we did have to take a few moments to pray for some generic bad guys and discuss the difference between speeders and real bad guys. Why can't all mornings go this smoothly?
I mean, truly I hate raising my voice or my hand to my children. A three year old in the throes of a fit isn't a logical creature. A me without at least six cups of coffee isn't a logical creature either. Our experiences this week have me thinking a lot about patience. I've repeatedly prayed to be a more patient person. Rather than becoming more patient instantly, I've found that God keeps putting me in positions to find patience. I keep coming up short. Is it wrong to stop praying for patience? Perhaps a wiser mind than mine can tell me, but at least for this week, I'm changing my prayer!
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