Forgiveness

If there is anything I hope Grant knows about me, it is that I am trying. And that I'm praying for his forgiveness. I am impatient, I am irritated that Grant doesn't yet know how to answer the question "What's wrong" when he's upset, I let his messes get under my skin and I get soooooooo fed up. But I am trying. Trying to be patient, trying to let things roll off my back, trying to remember that he is still so very little and has so much to learn. I am trying not to view him as an antagonist who is purposely making more work for me, although it is especially challenging when he throws food on the floor just because he knows it is wrong, pulls movies off the shelf for no reason, or pours apple juice all over the carpet.

Those irritants make me forget. I forget how precious his childhood is, how his self-worth is being shaped, how his respect for others is being born, how my tone of voice sounds to his little ears. I forget how fragile his spirit and his psyche are, and I forget that being loved and cherished when you are two years old is more important than a clean kitchen.

So I am renewing my resolve to remember that my children only have one childhood, and that it is more important for me to be kind, patient, and respectful to them that it is to have a clean floor. And although most days I think I will still be determined to have both, I will remember which one matters in the long run.

So please, please, please forgive me - and let me join you in your world of wonder and happiness. I will bring juice and cookies.

Also, I want to share a sweet story that makes me happy. When I put Grant to bed a few nights ago, I snuggled him in his bed until he fell asleep and I dozed off for a few minutes too. Then, I went to my own bed and went to sleep. In the middle of the night, I heard Grant saying "Mommy, where are you?". I went in and he was standing in the middle of his room saying it over and over, "Mommy, where are you?". I asked him if he wanted me to get back in his bed with him and he said yes, which I did happily until he fell asleep again. I would have probably even stayed all night, but I can't turn over and I still need my space, so I left again once he was asleep, but it was so sweet and special. It's a good thing they go to sleep (eventually), turn into sweet little angels, and remind me why I love them and that I can keep going in the morning.

Sweet little loves... childhood slips by far too fast and I spend most of it wishing the kids would stop being so messy. Shame on me. Forgive me.