They say if you pray to God for patience, He'll give you opportunities to learn patience. So I don't pray for that anymore. Lord knows I get enough of those opportunities already! But I must not have been thinking clearly the other day. You see...I was having a bit of an emotion breakdown. I'm talking full-on, ugly crying over the fact that I'm a terrible Mom. I have these every so often, usually right after I have a good Mom day and start getting too cocky. It's the universe's way of bringing me down a peg or two. Anyway...I'm crying into a container of cookie dough that my sister-in-law dropped off (pretty sure she thought I'd make cookies...ha!) and I started praying that God make me a better mom--a mom that spends lots of good-quality, intentional time with her kids. BOY...did He deliver! Hello, Coronavirus! So, I would like to apologize for single-handedly inflicting this on everyone.
It's only been about a week. One week. Which reminds me of another prayer I had in a moment of sadness, thinking that my kids were growing up too fast--I prayed that time would slow down. Well, I promise you...time cannot possibly go slower than when you have 7 people shut in a house for 7 days. And I'm not talking about regular, quiet people. I'm talking about a 10-year old with the attitude of Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka. I'm talking about 2 boys who run around screaming, farting, and talking about how much they love their penises. I'm talking about the non-stop chatter of a 3-year old with the craziest head of hair you've ever seen and a 1-year old that's louder than any human should ever be. (If you don't believe me, just ask the people who sit by us at church!) It. Is. Loud.
So there I was, sitting down with Charlotte, desperately trying to drown everyone else out while I attempt to help her with math. I just stared at it, while my eyes slowly glossed over. Unfortunately, like dogs, kids can sense weakness. Charlotte could smell it. "Umm...Maybe I'll just go ask Dad." My initial reaction was YES, please! But my inner feminist came out and I started monologuing about women being just as smart as men, and we could figure this out, yada yada yada. Well, I'm pretty sure she checked out somewhere around minute 3 because I noticed she was messing with her putty. (Damn the putty! Am I right, Moms?) And on the same thread...Damn common core! Anyway, I seized my opportunity. I very discreetly texted a picture of the problem to Jim so he could figure it out and help me save face. With a 4th grader. Anyway...Problem solved. Work smarter, not harder.
Overall, I'm feeling pretty confident our new situation will expedite my next emotional breakdown, but I'll be just fine. I've got my bible and a bottle of wine! And I realized I just need to take it one day at a time. Maybe just try to accomplish one thing each day. Goal tomorrow: put on a bra.
