I. Am. Not. A. Morning. Person.
It would seem that every time I get up with my school age youngsters, the morning ends in a crashing pile of words and misread looks. I mistake the teasing as arguing and jump in to save the day. Instead, my cape gets tangled and I fall flat on my face. Again.
My kids are so used to dealing with their mornings without me that when I do appear (really, it's like magic) I throw everything off kilter. I just don't "do" their normal routine well.
This morning, Adrienne was going to take the three youngest to school as she had to be at work in town at the same time they needed to be arriving at the school. Perfect plan, until a broken zipper on a backpack, a stuffy nose and eyes that looked sad, and someone watching the clock with eagle eyes to make sure they weren't late, happened.
I added my two cents worth of opinion about the backpack, had to check a forehead and take a temperature. All the while, two of my girls are teasing and commenting and I just was not taking it well.
I need a morning therapist.
(Ohhh, that's why there's coffee?)
So, now suddenly I am on the defensive and someone is saying that I am always taking the side of this child over the others, and I am feeling like I am babying another one, and why don't I just stay in bed?
Really what I wanted to say was ?!@#%%#$?/ you bad mother!!
Some days, it really doesn't take much does it? To show just how human, how very human I am.
I sigh loudly (even though there is no one around now to hear it) and I wipe a stray tear that has spilled over from my suddenly full eyes. I want to be that perfect mother, up at dawn, fully dressed and coiffed, preparing a healthy balanced breakfast for my offspring. I want to greet them with a smile and a perfect Bible verse for the day. I want to send them off with a prayer and a song in their hearts.
But, this is usually how it goes:
Poptarts or cereal are on the menu, or if Heather is in her groove, she makes eggs for herself and Ryan.
I may venture forth, in pjs or sometimes just wrapped in a blanket, with my eyes squinted shut against all the lights they have on. Seriously, they turn them all on in the morning. I may mumble a "good morning" and they all gag at my morning breath. If needed, I sign a planner or divvy out lunch money, usually grumbling that it wasn't done the night before when I was perky and pleasant. Then off they go out the door. Sometimes I would drive them up the lane and sometimes I have prayed with them before they go. All in all, not my vision of how I want to be.
Am I going to change? Should I change? In some ways, yes, I need to make more of an effort. I don't have to be Marion Cunningham or June Cleaver, but I can smile a little and give a word of encouragement. I don't have to fit into perfection, because what I find is that in trying to do that, it only leads to disappointment and anger at myself. A vicious cycle that only ever spirals downward.
I may never be a chirpy, chipper, bouncy, vibrant morning person, but I can at least shine a wee bit brighter. And that's before the coffee.
Lamentations 3:22-23 (NIV)
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
Love,
Dianne
My Today Resolution: When I get up in the morning, don't be perfect, be myself, but do it with a little more patience and a lot more grace.
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