These past few days my attitude has been bad.
BAD.
I have complained about my home's open floor plan and lack of decorating potential, my hair that I'm trying to grow out, my schedule, how hard it is to go anywhere, the drawer on my stove that hangs crooked, my kids, my husband...
Bad.
Ever have days like that?
Yesterday and today were no exceptions!
I have been alone with all three kids for a couple of days, so I'm pooped, (but that's no excuse) It's hard not to feel a wee bit of resentment when your hubby is sleeping uninterrupted in a hotel, eating uninterrupted dinners in a restaurant, and enjoying adult interaction...it's business and work, but still, I'm going to the bathroom with an audience, hoping nobody dies while I'm in the shower, and eating half of a banana while driving one kid to Karate.
But this is the life! I know this. I attitude check myself regularly. But still, I am human after all.
This morning, I was hoping I would wake up and feel peace and a new perspective.
I did not.
I bickered with my husband over something stupid, didn't get my kiss and hug before he left for work, the twins screamed blood-curdling-wake-the-neighbors-screams while I stood at the stove making their Cream of Wheat, and quite frankly...I just wasn't Mary Poppins today.
I've been in a spiritual rut lately. Going to church is no longer enjoyable for me because I just sit in the nursery for 2 hours, basically it's just a scenery change for the twins to play somewhere new.
I have no desire to read my bible. No desire to LISTEN even if an earth shattering message were to smack me in the face. Stubborn.
I just feel yucky.
Ever have seasons like that?
The temptation to pile my children in the van and head to Target for some good old fashioned retail therapy is overwhelming me.
But is blowing our budget on cute shirts and nick knacks really going to solve my attitude?
Probably not.
It sure would be fun though.
I might still do it.
I was rocking Nora Jane to sleep for her nap, and delighting in her pudgy softness snuggled against me, and it eased into my mind as subtle as a whisper...gratitude.
I've been reading this book called Mindset For Moms, it's written by Jamie Martin, and I recommend it so whole heartedly.
I think it is starting to resonate in me.
I rocked my sweet girl, taking note of every dimple in her elbows and hands, their baby-hood is flying by, I feel an urgent need to savor. She emitted one of those heavenly baby sighs and wished I could rock her as long as she would allow, but remembered I had two other kids waiting on me...so I smooched her fat cheeks, rubbed my cheek across her hair, sniffed her sweet scent...heard some loud crashes coming from the living room, and reluctantly laid her down in her crib.
When I came out of the nursery I was greeted by Isabella, happily sweeping the living room, and Beckett grinning his gap-toothed grin and clutching his favorite ball which he immediately dropped as he crawled warp speed to greet me.
These kiddos were happy to see ME...grouchy, ungrateful, unappreciative me. My oldest was "helping" me. My middle couldn't get to me fast enough, and my youngest had only wanted me to snuggle her to sleep.
Humbled.
Grateful. That's what I am. Grateful that I've been alone while my hubby is on business, because it means he is working hard so that I can stay home with my kids and homeschool.
Grateful for my busy schedule because it means my kiddos are well adjusted and making friends.
Grateful for my cluttered open floor plan home because it houses my family and allows me to keep an eye on my busy crawlers at all times.
Now instead of feeling annoyed, I feel guilty for being so ungrateful. It's amazing how counting your blessings can so quickly adjust your attitude!
The temptation to pile my children in the van and head to Target for some good old fashioned retail therapy is overwhelming me.
But is blowing our budget on cute shirts and nick knacks really going to solve my attitude?
Probably not.
It sure would be fun though.
I might still do it.
I was rocking Nora Jane to sleep for her nap, and delighting in her pudgy softness snuggled against me, and it eased into my mind as subtle as a whisper...gratitude.
I've been reading this book called Mindset For Moms, it's written by Jamie Martin, and I recommend it so whole heartedly.
I think it is starting to resonate in me.
I rocked my sweet girl, taking note of every dimple in her elbows and hands, their baby-hood is flying by, I feel an urgent need to savor. She emitted one of those heavenly baby sighs and wished I could rock her as long as she would allow, but remembered I had two other kids waiting on me...so I smooched her fat cheeks, rubbed my cheek across her hair, sniffed her sweet scent...heard some loud crashes coming from the living room, and reluctantly laid her down in her crib.
When I came out of the nursery I was greeted by Isabella, happily sweeping the living room, and Beckett grinning his gap-toothed grin and clutching his favorite ball which he immediately dropped as he crawled warp speed to greet me.
These kiddos were happy to see ME...grouchy, ungrateful, unappreciative me. My oldest was "helping" me. My middle couldn't get to me fast enough, and my youngest had only wanted me to snuggle her to sleep.
Humbled.
Grateful. That's what I am. Grateful that I've been alone while my hubby is on business, because it means he is working hard so that I can stay home with my kids and homeschool.
Grateful for my busy schedule because it means my kiddos are well adjusted and making friends.
Grateful for my cluttered open floor plan home because it houses my family and allows me to keep an eye on my busy crawlers at all times.
Now instead of feeling annoyed, I feel guilty for being so ungrateful. It's amazing how counting your blessings can so quickly adjust your attitude!
