Oh Me, Oh My

Guys, do you ever just plop down in a chair at the end of the day and say to yourself, "Bad job.  Very badly done."
Oh my gracious, I just keep ending my days like that.  It is no fun.  I'm pretty sure my kids will be dreaming of the wicked witch tonight because I sure gave it to them this evening.
Friday was such a good day.  I made up the menu, got the groceries, cleaned 2 bathrooms, painted some of the paneling in the den bath, ate healthy, worked out...checking off the list to what I call a successful day.  Then I got the older 2 from school and the day crumbled to pieces.  I'm pretty sure it was my fault.

Claire and Kate are such a team.  They imagine up this wonderful world and then build it.  Whether it be dragging pillows and blankets outside to make a home, or bringing sand and sticks inside to plant a garden,  it's usually something along those lines.  If they're quiet and not fighting, I can know we'll have a lot of cleaning to do later.
Sadly, it wasn't one of those afternoons.  It was the one where they are at each other constantly.  Claire puts her foot on Kate, and Kate screams.  Kate jumps on the chair Claire is sitting in.  Claire wails.  It's back and forth and it really doesn't let up for the entire afternoon, until Daddy walks in the door much later than I wanted him to.  The easy answer is to call it Movie Time, but we can't do that all day.  I can't handle it.  My measured patience has excreted it's last drop and all that is left is venom and wrath.  Yikes.

We need to get to the heart of the problem that movie time just won't fix.
But the heart of the problem isn't just their hearts.  I know, I know, my posts are like a broken record.  I have a heart problem, yadayadayada.  But I guess I'll keep talking about it until I'm fixed, which will be in Glory, with my brand new skin and no more need to blog.

Well, I need good books with helpful tips.  I need friends with which I can talk though these things.  I need the gospel in front of my face.  I need prayer like crazy.
I've said all along, that if it were in the budget, I would pay someone to follow me around all day and speak the truth to me constantly, as soon as I start to believe lies.  I just can't fix myself.
I was pouring out to a friend how much I wish I were that mom who gave her girls no doubt that she joyed in serving them, in cleaning up their messes, and bearing patiently with their infirmities, and never had a thought of smacking their heads together.  I wish I were Jesus to them.  But I'm just selfish right along with them.
Let's pray for all the Moms who wish they were Jesus to their kids, but keep failing.  Let's pray for the guilt that swallows them up at the end of nearly every day.  And let's keep reminding each other of new mercies and the wonderful truth of free grace and the never-failing love of Christ that we still just have a hard time believing exists for us.