Yesterday was a rough day. Rough for me. Rough for Shaelyn. It was raining (again - for the 3rd day in a row). We were stuck inside (again). Even after a fun trip to the library and the grocery store, we had hours to kill and not much to do.
My creativity was spent. My patience was shot.
And so was Shaelyn's.
I was annoyed. And bored. And stir-crazy.
And so was Shaelyn.
The day was spent in a constant power struggle. Shaelyn doing thing she shouldn't (throwing toys, ripping magazines, basic destruction...) and me nagging behind.
I try to focus on the positive. I try to ignore the negative (the kind I can ignore anyway). But yesterday I heard myself saying "DON'T!" like a broken record.
"DON'T throw your diapers all over the floor!"
"DON'T walk all over your toys!"
"DON'T get in sister's face!"
"DON'T whine!"
"DON'T splash!"
While trying to unwind after she went to bed, I found myself reading one of Michael's old Calvin and Hobbes books. Usually, I find Calvin's antics quite funny, but last night I found them annoying and familiar, ringing with all the frustration I deal with all too often.
And then I came upon this one:
And it broke my heart. Even though I'm responsible for molding Shaelyn's behavior, I felt horrible about all the times I said "DON'T!" throughout the day. Because each time my patience waned, it was my fault, not hers. Each time I got annoyed, my fault. And even though I expect her to act with all the maturity of a 30-year-old, she is only 2!
Last night I repented. And prayed really, really hard. Not for her. For me. For me to be the mom she needs. For me to be quick to patience, slow to anger. For me to create the haven of safety our home should be. For me to guide with love, not force with an air of annoyance.
Today was much better.
