"Can you take me to the grocery store so I can get a new mom?"

That was the request of my 3 yr old head strong daughter tonight.  I asked her if she would miss me if she had a new mom and she said "maybe after a few weeks".   Ahh, the joys of being a mother.  This is after a day filled with a lot of yelling. All on my part this time.  She pooped in her pants for the 1,000th time in the last year. And I did not handle it with grace what so ever. My 5 yr old son pretended not to hear me or just out right didn't do something I asked him to for the 1,000th time today as well. And I snapped. I yelled at her for making me clean her poop off her butt. I yelled at him for never listening to me. I yelled at them for being the disobedient, ungrateful, stubborn children.  What mirror images of me they are. 

Today was not my proudest day of mothering. Most days I have a lot more patience.  Most days I can discipline with a level head and I don't take ownership for their mistakes. But I failed in that today.  I'm thankful that God has grace for me. I just wish I had more of it for myself.

I'm reminded of the times my mom would snap like I just did. The times she would walk into my room after I was tucked in bed.  She'd be carrying a basket full of folded laundry to put away in my dresser. She'd open the dresser and be met by a random mix of clothes everywhere. Inevitably there would be nights she would flip the light switch on in a fury and scoop all of those clothes out of the dresser and onto the floor in one big pile. I'd have to get out of bed, half asleep at times, and fold them and put them all back in the drawers nicely.  It kills me now to think of the grief I gave her at times. The simple things like folding my clothes that could have helped her to not lose it at the end of the day. A day filled with working a full time job, homework with 7 kids, cooking for a family of 9, cleaning, prepping for the next day's work etc...  But I think back to who I was at that age. And I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt her. I wasn't intentionally out to be the last straw.  I was just a kid. A kid too lazy to fold her clothes. I loved her deeply but I took her for granted. 

The bottom line is that my kids will remember me yelling but they'll also remember me being patient and loving. Just like I remember both about my childhood.  Me losing it will cause them to think about how they treat me for the next few days. But then life will creep back in and that lesson will be forgotten about. It's the same way with my relationship with God. Things draw me into Him, for a few days, and then I'm off again on my own making a mess of my clothes (life).  It's my own laziness that defeats me again. 

Hence I continue on this journey I've started the last few weeks. I'm trying to learn what grace is. To have grace myself and in turn to have it with others. I'm a perfectionist. And that is driving me crazy. My brain is constantly thinking of ways I can be doing things better. Being a better mom, a better wife, healthier, skinnier, better listener, better organizer etc...

 I need to learn to love myself for who God made me. Then in turn, I can learn to give grace to those around me.

To the 3 yr old who refuses to poop in the toilet. Grace.

To the 5 yr old who likes to test his boundaries. Grace.

To the 35 yr old who is constantly failing.  Grace.