Losing My Cool
Lord, I'm so tired of the same confession,
I lost my cool,
Tired of staring temper in its ugly fanged face...
I'm tired of being bossed around
by an irrational two-year old.
Can't someone ever take my part and say, "I know how you feel?"
All I ever hear is--
"These years go so quickly."
And I feel guilty for my silent, "Not quickly enough for me!"
The years must graciously retain only sweet memories or all grandmothers have amnesia.
If I think clearly I know that this is only a tiny portion of my life;but my heart cries out to ask...
"Will I ever read a whole book again and not find scribbles on the crucial page? Will i ever scrub the kitchen floor and have it stay clean long enough for anyone to believe I scrubbed it?
Will I ever do the wash, hang it out, fold it up, iron it, and put it away in less than five days?
Will we ever have conversation at the table or wake up in our bed alone, without little obstacles between us?"
I know that we will be alone all too soon--and hate the quiet (or so they tell me, although I can't imagine it.)
But all I can feel is the now.
I know that this is the road of the crucified Self--but Lord, I was hoping to be perfected by something more dramatic,
Not piddled and spilled and whined to death.
Today I can understand working mothers, day care centers, child abuse and zero population growth.
But I will not give up because I know that You see into this home and into my heart, and into the future,
And not a hair is pulled out of my head Without Your notice, Your love, Your comfort.
I lost my cool,
Tired of staring temper in its ugly fanged face...
I'm tired of being bossed around
by an irrational two-year old.
Can't someone ever take my part and say, "I know how you feel?"
All I ever hear is--
"These years go so quickly."
And I feel guilty for my silent, "Not quickly enough for me!"
The years must graciously retain only sweet memories or all grandmothers have amnesia.
If I think clearly I know that this is only a tiny portion of my life;but my heart cries out to ask...
"Will I ever read a whole book again and not find scribbles on the crucial page? Will i ever scrub the kitchen floor and have it stay clean long enough for anyone to believe I scrubbed it?
Will I ever do the wash, hang it out, fold it up, iron it, and put it away in less than five days?
Will we ever have conversation at the table or wake up in our bed alone, without little obstacles between us?"
I know that we will be alone all too soon--and hate the quiet (or so they tell me, although I can't imagine it.)
But all I can feel is the now.
I know that this is the road of the crucified Self--but Lord, I was hoping to be perfected by something more dramatic,
Not piddled and spilled and whined to death.
Today I can understand working mothers, day care centers, child abuse and zero population growth.
But I will not give up because I know that You see into this home and into my heart, and into the future,
And not a hair is pulled out of my head Without Your notice, Your love, Your comfort.
And here's my confession:
Tomorrow we sign Anna Banana up for Kindergarten. Last year, around this time, I actually said out loud that I would probably miss her the most when she went to school because her absence makes the house so quiet. This child is SO high-maintenance! Every 10 minutes she "needs" something: a drink, a snack, she wants to play with a friend, she wants to watch a different movie/TV show, she has a splinter because she's played outside without her shoes on like I've warned her not to, she has a thorn in her foot because she was playing outside without her shoes on, Landon is in her room, Landon is calling her a name, Landon is sticking his tongue out at her....and on and on and on!
Every time I have had to send one of my little ones off on their first day of school, I leave in a big, teary-eyed, slobbery crying mess. I know that it will probably be the same way when I leave her in her new classroom in August.
BUT!
I think God prepares us in the most cruel unusual way for our children to leave; whether it's on the first day of school or when they've packed up all their things for college or marriage, He turns them into horrible little creatures so that it's easier to say goodbye! lol
Recently, my brother was in town and having MUCH difficulty getting some important things done stateside. He was growing grumpier and moodier and more pessimistic every day. I told my mom, "Well, his acting this way will make it easier when it comes time to take him to the airport." (Love you, Paul!)
And I think it will be true when I have to take my little girl to school in the fall.
I may cry as I'm walking out the door of that elementary school but I will do a little jig once I get home!
