It hit me hard and I started to cry. “Maybe I’m not fit to be mom. I’m grumpy all the time, impatient, exasperated by the demands. This is hard.” A few moments later my mind continued, “wow this is an attack of the evil one. God would not have given me these children if he didn’t plan for me to be a mom, especially if they are my path to sainthood and will help me to work through the lingering wounds of my own humanness and childhood.”
I calmed down a little and apologized to my almost three year old for breaking her squirt bottle when I knocked it out of her hands. It wasn’t planned but I was really taken aback and surprised by the feel of the cold mist through my shirt sleeve when she sprayed me with it. That paired with her back-talking and sass while I was attempting to mix up 2 loaves of banana bread and keep the 13mo old from eating egg shells while she was standing on the step stool at the counter. It was only 8:15am and boy what a morning it had been.
The evening before I was ponding what ZP said about how she didn’t like to go home or be at home. What was it that caused her to be that way or feel such a sentiment? Convicted. I have a bad habit of pulling out my phone to look up things when I have a moment to sit down. As is the symptoms of the times, we are no different than most families whose kids likely wonder about their worth when all they see is their mom and dad looking at a screen instead of looking at or playing with them. JJ and I had talked good intentions of having a place to put our phones up when at home with the kids before we had any children. But we haven’t followed through. The phones stay near us or in our pockets most of the time.
I am fit to be mom. This is my call, my vocation. I have work to do on myself, as I am sure most of us this side of heaven still do. And to start I can work at being more present to the girls when they are with me.
Lord, please give me your grace.
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