Flustered

Its like a sitcom over here, but the exploding coffee pot, missing gloves, screaming kids, and impossibly narrow window of time in which the school bus can be caught are real - not scripted frustrations for inducing laughter. Everywhere I turn, everything I lay my eyes on is a reminder of what I should get done today but won’t. And it’s building up around me – the dirty laundry, the bathtub scum, the responsibilities that antagonize me like a playground bully. Sometimes I feel like a great mom, and sometimes I am convinced that I suck at it, that if only I had two more arms, a decent nights sleep, and what else? Let’s think about this logically. A cleaner house? Would that make me happy? How about a couple of Stepford Children, all flawless and beautiful and completely inhuman? Am I really this flustered by imperfection?

I need to slow it down, take a breath, and say a prayer. Of all the things I could possibly screw up today the only one that matters is my interaction - with the two tinies playing in the living room, the big brother and sister upon their return home this afternoon, my husband working late, and with whomever else God puts in my path for the purpose of being encouraged by the likes of a weak, undeserving, but nevertheless blessed me (despite my Capri pants and knee-high socks shouting “Look who doesn’t have any clean jeans!” ). This is the once in a lifetime day that the Lord has made, and there are obviously some sinister forces at work trying to keep me from rejoicing in it. But too bad, wet coffee grounds strewn generously all over my countertops, I have bigger fish to fry and you have nowhere to go, nothing to do, no way to dampen my outlook if I don’t let you!

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me a sinner!