Or not.
Isn’t it funny how we can hold others to standards that we, on our absolute best days, are lucky to measure up to?
Well, maybe ‘funny’ isn’t the best word to use here.
I find it odd that I have such high expectations for my toddler, who’s only been breathing air for a mere 28 months, and yet can be such a twit myself at times?!?
How does it compute? This I would love to know.
For instance.
Today was a great day. Really. The kiddos and I spent time with precious friends this morning, had a blast at Meijer {between the fish tanks, pretty wine bottles and the penny horse…how can you go wrong?}, sipped copious amounts of tea, made chocolate-chip-chickpea cookies, played with playdough, cooked dinner for the {whole} family…you get the point.
Please note: All the while my beloved husband is having a much-needed getaway {freezing his hieney off riding 4-wheelers} with his bestest buddy down in Ohio.
I was feeling like a pretty good mom. I was tempted at times to strike a pose and tear open my shirt, hoping to reveal a shiny “S” on my chest…but figured it wouldn’t be a very dignified way of celebrating today’s success at motherhood.
Aren’t I so appropriate? See, my filter is functioning much better these days.
So, amidst this fantabulous day, why on earth would a completely and utterly unprovoked rebellious streak decide to rear its ugly head?
I, fully aware, proudly and unabashedly scraped the cookie dough bowl and smiled at my mother as I licked the spoon.
What? Really? 20 days…and now this?!?
And then…as though that wasn’t failure enough for one day…I sheepishly hid in the pantry and ate half a cookie.
Yeah…about that dignified thing.
No. Today. Was not stellar. I’m almost completely mortified enough to not publish this. But not really. And while that doesn’t make sense…”almost completely”…I didn’t feel like changing it. So there you have it.
Apparently my rebellious streak has not excused itself quite yet.
Shortly thereafter, lady Alathea brought me a little white string she has been “flossing her teeth” with. Instead of doing the mature, civilized thing of throwing it in the garbage, I was feeling rather lazy. And rebellious.
The moment Ali turned around to walk away… I tossed it, with reckless abandon, over my shoulder in the direct vicinity of the Christmas tree sitting innocently behind me, knowing full well that the little white string would blend in nicely with the {heinous} shiny lametta strings {also known as “icicles”} my sweet mother insists adorn this poor thing every year. The tree actually looks good until the lametta is broken out.
And now the tree is minty fresh and no one will know why. Mwah ha ha.
And this is just today! Last night…? Wow, last night I was a piece of work.
I had a sorry little pity-party for myself {born out of my frustration of having to parent our kids for the entire day by myself…a baby attached to your chest and a toddler attached to your leg is just a wee bit exhausting}, while my husband was away, adjusting his return time over and over again from what was initially established.
I was pitiful. And officially done being cordial around 9:30pm. I fumed while holding my 4 month old who had finally fallen asleep after adjusting from sitting to laying to standing {with assistance} over and over again and attempting to read to and pray with my 2 year old before bed. I practically threw her in the crib {had to hoist her with my foot and elbow because of having my arms full}.
But get this…this is where I bite my lip with embarrassment.
My sweet man had spent the entire day helping a friend; working for 16 hours on a stubborn truck, for free, in 12* weather. Just because he’s that kind of man.
And me…well, yes, of course I could have put that sleeping baby down…and that bedtime routine didn’t have to last 4 times as long as it usually does…but in all honesty, I was dragging it out in the hopes my husband would return home to find me overwhelmed, with my arms full, and hence feel awful for being so late.
Isn’t that just awesome? {overwhelming amount of sarcasm inserted here}.
Yeah, it’s a wonder God hasn’t fired me yet. If I were him, I’m pretty sure my grace-o-meter would have ceased to function about…well, a very, very long time ago.
So, as the song goes…”I get knocked down, but I get up again, ain’t never gonna keep me down…”
Tomorrow is another day. I’m so thankful for new beginnings. Needless to say, I especially adore a brand-spanking New Year!
Back up I get.
I suppose when I’m making radical changes in an effort to live a radical life with a radical effect…I’m going to make radical mistakes.
And while inhaling a few chocolate chips and chickpeas laden with butter and sugar don’t quite constitute a radical disaster, the condition of my heart was dangerously close.
Here’s to a new day and a fresh start!
More chickpeas over here in the “still growing” department, please. But…hold the chocolate chips. Thank you.
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