Things sure can change in only a couple weeks, huh? This summer already threw a wrench in things when I went from being home with the kids during the day to running around church after other people's kids every day. And now I've transitioned again to wearing a name badge and real clothes, sitting at a desk, and attending meetings. I feel like such a grown up.
I have worn eyeliner and mascara every day for three weeks. I've actually made my bed. I spend one less night a week waiting tables. My house is a total mess.
Ok, so some things never change.
Obviously it has been a season of transition in our family. Mom going to work during the day is a big deal, even if it is just part-time. It's created an entirely new climate in our house and we are still working out the kinks that come with figuring out a new way to do life. But it's been good. Crazy. Busy. But good.
I'm so grateful.
My boys are thriving and I am just in awe of how their personalities are continuously changing and maturing. Being home just that one extra night a week has opened up so many more chances for me to snuggle and read with them, talk to them, and just spend time learning about who they are. There have already been some nights where I have had to say, "Evan, I have a deadline and I absolutely MUST hole up in my office and work tonight." And that's been ok. Because at bedtime all three of those little boogers march right on in and Mommy gets a built-in break for bedtime.
Thomas now sleeps with four different Curious George stuffed animals. And Blankee.
Micah almost always prays the same prayer every night: "Dear God, please help me be good, please help me be nice and clean, in Jesus' name Amen."
Isaiah, ever my sensitive child, will sometimes become suddenly overcome with emotion out of clear blue sky. Like tonight, when in about two seconds he went from laughing at Phineas and Ferb to crying into my shoulder because he misses his Daddy.
I swear, I feel every day like I am screwing this all up. When Micah is in Time Out for the ten millionth time, when Isaiah is kicking at his door and screaming that I'm so mean, when Thomas is losing his ever-loving mind because it's his brother's birthday and not his.
The anger, frustration, and defeat all come to a head and suddenly I'm slamming cupboard doors and yelling. And then comes the acknowledgement, the confession, the apology, the forgiveness and the repentance. My parenting secret is that I mess up in big ways every single day. I apologize to my kids, confess it to my God, repent and try my darndest not to screw up in the same way the next day. A lot of the time, I fail.
But I'll tell you what. Even though the kid threw away the cover to his lunch container causing his uneaten raspberries and blackberries to become pulverized as they bounced around freely in his brand new lunchbox, I love him to pieces. And I tell him every day.
And I know that they love me. In spite of my constant screw-ups, they love me. Through my inadequacy, I am somehow teaching them grace. Albeit, only a hint of it, but an important introduction.
Sure, my new job comes with a name badge which makes me feel like kind of a big deal. Go ahead and try to tell me it doesn't feel a little cool when you wave your badge at the sensor thingy and the door opens. It's empowering. (I'm also easily impressed.)
But my full-time job is a pretty sweet gig too.
