There are days when I wake up after not sleeping well to children who slept great. And I whisper a prayer for strength and grace. Little boys asking me to ride in their couch-turned-pickup-truck. And please hold their stuffed giraffe, who for this round of imaginary play is actually a kitten. And he's happy I'm "riding with him", even tho I did doze off on the pile of paraphernalia he has piled in his "truck". A baby puking half of her just eaten meal down the front of my shirt. A little boy who forgot that yes, he really DOES need to go potty. In fact, he needed to go 5 minutes ago. Me trying hard to not be angry as I remind him that he needs to have a potty break more often. Forgetting that God's grace is sufficient for potty accidents on the couch. Finally remembering we all fail in our own ways. And that yes, God's grace IS sufficient. A not quite so little boy that asks over and over again about philosophical questions that my brain doesn't feel like it can muster up the power to think through. Saying the alphabet sounds and coming up with silly games. Losing my temper at peanut butter smeared in places it shouldn't be. Saying I'm sorry to little men. Asking for grace. Sinking into the couch once all the littles are down for naps. And realizing that BabyGirl just woke up. Being annoyed. Praying for forgiveness. Remembering at bedtime that there are no more PullUps. Which could prove disastrous to the night of sleep I was hoping to get. Pulling out of the driveway at the time I was HOPING to be in bed. Coming home to pass out said PullUps.
Pulling up covers, and then having little arms grab for my neck and say, "I love you Mommy. I'm glad you're my Mommy. And I like our glad home."
And then there are tears on cheeks. That my children always love me. At the grace of God ever present. All we have to do is accept it, and I pray I'll learn better during tomorrow's challenges. And then go to bed, thanking God that there will be a new supply of his mercies for tomorrow.