I’m sick. If you couldn’t tell by the exhausted tone of the previous two blog posts. NeeNee brought home the cold/flu/not-really-sure-what-this-is last week and it has finally cycled through everyone and made it to me.
My house is a mess. My business tasks are even more piled up than before. My patience has left the building. And I feel like a terrible Mother.
Normally when I’m ill I still function pretty well. I’m a tough cookie and don’t let a little cold thingy knock me down. This time is different. I’m not really sure why.
I am particularly ashamed of my Mothering today. I hoped all day that my children would be able to forgive this day of extreme impatience and intolerance. And that my Husband wouldn’t be too disappointed with the disaster that awaited him.
Although fully aware of the bad day I was having, I still couldn’t talk myself out of who I was, or how I was behaving. I feel terrible. I’m aching, I’m stuffed up, my head hurts, I’m oh-so-tired… but more than anything my heart hurts that I’ve had one of those days where I’ve not lived the qualities of Jesus like I try and do each day.
Tonight after a couple hours of quiet, with children in bed, I tip toed into my older boys room to look at them sleeping. I secretly hoped my oldest was still awake so I could snuggle with him and be the Mommy he deserves and didn’t get today. He wasn’t. My heart sank. I covered up Zboy, walked over to NeeNee’s bed, reached down to cover him up and he opened his eyes.
“I love you Mama”, he quietly peeped while turning over to sleep.
Its what I needed more than anything. I stroked his face and hair, told him how much “I love you, sweet baby”, and left the room.
Though I can’t take back the day, I know tomorrow is always a new day. And even if I wake up still sick and tired and irritable, I have the power within myself to make it a better day.
I resolve that tomorrow I’ll be a better Mother.