Mornings aren’t a good time for me. No matter how late I sleep in, I’m always crabby. This morning was no different than any other. The boys were up and around and full of energy at 8:15am.
They ended up in Alex’s room pulling all of his “next size up” shoes from the closet. Of course one pair had been put away with sand still in them and Joseph noticed the sand and tipped it upside down to empty it. On the carpet. Perfect. I saw the whole thing unfold while I was trying to help Alex with another “new” pair and flipped out. “What are you doing?!? Why would you dump the sand on the floor? You know better! Use your head!”
#1 Mom right here.
He sulked out of the room and sat on the couch. “Why are you so mean? I’m going to tell dad that you’re the meanest.”
I stewed for a minute and looked at him across the room. And then I walked over to him and sat down next to him. “Why are you sad?” I asked.
“Because you always yell at me. You never told me not to dump the sand on the floor. I didn’t know.”
True on the first 2 accounts. False on the 3rd. But the 1st statement broke my heart. I could see hurt in his eyes.
I do my fair share of yelling. My temper is short. Especially in the morning. Unfair and uncalled for.
“I’m sorry, buddy. You’re right. Mommy should not have yelled at you. I’m sorry. I love you.”
It’s amazing how hard it is for me to apologize. Even to my 6-year-old. I hate that about myself.
“Do you want to help me vacuum up the sand in Alex’s room?”
So I pulled out the vacuum, and started in the living room. With a few quick tips he was off!! And man was he off! Vacuumed the WHOLE HOUSE! And loved it. Of course I praised him up and down for his stellar work and help. He beamed and called himself the janitor. “Just like at school!”
And while he vacuumed for 30 minutes, I got the boys dressed and myself ready!
Praise God for parenting failures that turn into loving, teachable, forgiveness-filled moments.
And to his future wife, you’re welcome.