I found myself walking up to my church today, yelling at my daughter for not trying.
I was walking up to church. A place of worship. A place of peace. A place of love. A place where families are the most important. And here I was yelling at my child. Not because she ran into the road. Not because she pushed her sibling to the ground. I was upset because she wasn’t trying.
We were late for church. I hate being late for things but she just doesn’t care. Taking 15 minutes in the restroom just go sit on the toilet is not unusual for her. And it’s not unusual for me to be on the other side of the door, telling her to finish and get out of the bathroom.
It’s days like this where I realize I have no patience. It’s days like these where I think, “What in the world am I doing? Who am I?”
So starting today, I want to be a more loving mom. I need to figure out for myself how to calm down, to relax more, and to appreciate what I have.
I have friends whose young children have passed away. Their time was cut short and the parents think how different their lives would be if their children were still here. Yet here I am, lucky enough to still have my children here on the earth with me and I’m wishing they would be a certain way. I’m wishing my daughter could take 2 minutes in the bathroom instead of 15. I wish my daughter would hurry and not enjoy what she’s currently doing. I wish my son would just tell me what he wants instead of standing there, staring holes through me as he tries to tell me what he wants through his thoughts.
I wish, I wish, and I wish. But I’m so blessed to have children that I should be grateful and enjoying every second.
So here it goes. Being grateful.
This photo was taken a few weeks ago. They were happy but I was beyond stressed. I spent the entire walk saying things like, “Hurry!” “There’s a car coming, you need to stand up so we can cross the road! He’s waiting for us!” “No, you need to walk. I’m not going to carry you this time.” “Please walk faster and stay up with us. I don’t want you a block behind us.” “Please stop running ahead. I need you to stay with me.” Yet look at them. They crossed the road, held hands, and were looking for cars.
The next walk we take, I’m going to slow down, let them enjoy their walk, let them be kids, and let them enjoy life, no matter how stressed about the walk I’m feeling.
What will you do this week to be a more loving mother?