Because sometimes, days are hard and I throw a brush

Today is a hard day. As a mama, there are days when I can put forth a full effort to love, be an example of kindness, encourage gentleness… and there are days when I throw a hairbrush. Today is a hairbrush throwing day.
This week (with the help of my husband and best friend), I stocked my freezer and cupboards with 2-3 months worth of meals and snacks. I was super organized this time (whoa!), put together a detailed plan and nailed it. Day one dinner was soup. My dear son refused to try it. Refused. I tried to understand that he was fresh off of his first day back at school since being on vacation, he was tired. But we have always had the rule about trying everything - its not like he would have expected me to make him something else. After an hour, he gave up and went to bed. UGH. 
Breakfast today was a family favorite - baked french toast. I overslept (should have known to stay in bed) but thought since it was already prepped, I could pull it off. Put it in the oven and started getting the kids ready. My tantrum-thrower did not like the order she got in to brush her teeth. No joke. Que fit. Then I brushed the other daughter's hair, she happily put on her fancy dress for school, yay! Tantrum-thrower came out after a good 10 minutes and would you believe I tried to brush her hair with the wrong brush!? After spraying detangler when she said she didn't have snarlies?! The brush was silver, not pink. Que fit. Que mama throwing the brush onto the floor - apparently hard enough to make it bounce across the room. The kids didn't see that, but I caught my lovely husband's eye. He saw it. UFF.

My tender-hearted whiner.

We sat down to eat (tantrum-thrower still upstairs, then down and throwing a new fit because her brother got her cup for her). His first words were a complaint. About something he has eaten a dozen times before and loved. I *may* have then said something along the lines of "from now on, you can prepare your own meals". That may have been the end of my rope. The only one having a cheerful morning was the daughter that speaks in "whine" 75% of the time.
We took Josiah on a cruise last week (which was a blast!), all by himself. He was initially thankful - tackling me in his excitement when he found out. Then while on the trip, several times he got upset that I wouldn't let him play plants versus zombies on Steve's phone or my Nook. Or that I wouldn't let him spend the whole trip in the arrrr-cade. I just had some jaw-dropping moments, wondering why this child could be so ungrateful. I let him blow his birthday money on pretty much anything he wanted - except I wouldn't let him buy a pirate gun. He bought an entire pirate ensemble, but several times after had to mention that I wouldn't let him buy that gun. Where do kids learn this? Or is this something natural that needs to be un-learned? At dinner the first night, we were seated with another family with three kids in a fancier restaurant (still had crayons and games on the menu to play), and I caught myself comparing him to the other kids. Their boys were older (9 and 12), but they sat STILL! They ate with manners. They politely talked to the waitress and didn't try to lay down or jump in their chairs. I tried to be compassionate - I know I have an energetic boy. I know that 4 course meals aren't something he is accustomed to. But the child has been to a restaurant before. He knows that he needs to sit at the table at dinner, etc. We skipped the fancy dinner the next night - I knew he couldn't handle it. But shouldn't he be able to? 

This is the day she told me she was going to find a new mom.

We recently got a puppy - mommy temporarily failed to think about my son's allergies and thought a tiny puppy that doesn't shed would be so fun for the kids. (Side note - how in the world could I forget in the moment that he has allergies?!) The kids love the puppy. But a hundred times I can say "if you do that, he will bite you" and a hundred times, he will do that and the puppy will bite/try to bite. My words are not getting through. And I let myself get frustrated. I don't understand their actions (or lack of actions). It doesn't make sense to me and thus it makes me angry.

FUN.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my kids. My oldest is a struggle in this stage, but he is a brilliant boy and still affectionate and funny. My middle child is a soft-hearted thing, she won't whine forever (heaven help us if she does). My youngest is my monster (I say that with affection?!), but she is hilarious and where would we be without that surprise babe. But sometimes? Sometimes I need to be able to say out loud that I threw a hairbrush. Sometimes I feel like their "failures" are mine. And I know they aren't failures - they are kids and they are learning right along with me. But sometimes? Sometimes I wish that they would reciprocate my efforts in showing kindness and grace to each other. Sometimes I wish that I could say something and they would hear me. Sometimes I wish that he could use manners at the table without being told every day. Sometimes I wish that I could implement a new method for my own practice of mothering and not lose heart when they don't respond the way I want them to right away. And OH, how I wish that I wouldn't let their behavior control my emotions. But sometimes its hard being a mom and being a good mom or feeling like a good mom when our kids are selfish and we are selfish and uff. Sometimes it feels like I was not wired to deal with this behavior or that attitude. I have an idea in my head about the kind of mom I want to be, and yet sometimes it feels like my kids are preventing that from happening! How is that even possible. 
The hard thing about not growing up in a home where we had godly examples is trying to figure out how to be that example for our kids. I know how I am called to act, but I haven't had a model of that in parent-form and how can I be that for them now? A million parenting books out there, but how do you find the right fit for your family? How come it feels like every other child can sit at the table but mine? Did I start teaching him too late? No - he has had the same mealtime rules his whole life. He just doesn't make the connection? How come other siblings can be kind to each other? My kids have heard about loving one another in a dozen different ways, but still he pushes her or she bites her. 


Today I know I am blessed. I have these three beautiful faces in my home to call mine. I have friends who I can text (because they know I can't talk about hard things on the phone or I will cry and I hate crying) and tell them "I threw a brush, please pray" and they will. I am long past the cultural standard of not being honest about what life is actually like. I am blessed to have friends that can handle my honesty. And I have this God who put these kids in my life for a reason. And He will be the strength I need for today. And maybe tomorrow I will lean on Him more and He will help me refrain from throwing a brush and rather to choose to show grace. But sometimes, I throw a hairbrush.