Monday, April 29, 2013

Patience...or lack thereof

I wish Amazon sold patience.

You know:

Product: Patience
Price: Who Cares We Know You'll Pay Whatever
Description: The Missing Link To Perfect Motherhood

Seriously, I would be the best mother in the world if I could get my hands on ten more loads of patience...a day. (And while I'm dreaming, it would even be more convenient if those loads could be traded for loads of laundry.)

When my patience runs thin, or low, or vaporizes into thin air for no discernible reason (you get the idea), I could bring up the Amazon ap on my phone, add "Patience" to my cart, and with one click of a button know that more Patience will be coming my way- shipped in a cute little brown box, delivered by a smiling delivery man, expedited to my doorstep because I am a super important (read frequent) customer.

It could come in many different forms- a mild coffee that radiates calm and endless patience with each delicious sip. An ice cream with just the right amount of chunks- the crunchiness thereof providing amazing serenity of mind. A box of chocolates that soothes and repairs impatience with exploding taste buds. Or even just a box of tropical air that imparts to you a vacation-like peace upon inhalation.

If only it was that easy.

Perhaps my latest patience drought has something to do with my children's latest obsession with gleefully tossing their bowls of food onto the floor beneath their seats- over and over and over again. And then crying because they're hungry because they didn't eat enough before tossing it overboard. Perhaps it has something to do with the on again off again relationship they have developed with obedience. Perhaps it has something to do their burning curiosity to see what that neatly folded laundry would look like unfolded, in a pile in the middle of the floor, offset by a beautifully crushed pretzel.

Yesterday I was done. Just done. I glared at Addison who had just dumped dinner onto the floor beneath her for the millionth time that week. A floor that was now filthy because of this new habit.

"NO!" I said, not calmly at all. "NO, WE DO NOT THROW OUR FOOD."

I looked into her eyes. She looked guilty, a little confused at my tone, and definitely hungry because her dinner was now all gone.

I took a deep breath and wished this could be somehow easier, but knew that this is a battle that is just beginning. I adapted the serenity prayer to get me through the moment:

God, give me the grace to accept with serenity
the things that they willingly learn,
as well as the things they refuse to learn,
and the patience to keep teaching them anyway.

One day at a time. One drop of patience at a time. One hopeful perusing of Amazon at a time.

If only toddlers came with extra patience instead of extra laundry...we would all be set. They say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. This explains exactly how my children make me feel those days when I spend many hours teaching the same things over and over again- ignored each time.

I type this during nap time. Nap time: the battery charger for patience. See? I feel better already. Ready to face another day hour.

p.s. only one day left to take advantage of the new ebook thank you giveaway.

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