This winter is getting to me. I mean, really getting to me. I don't think there's been a week since Christmas that one of us hasn't been sick with something. Normally, I don't hate winter, but if March 20th doesn't get here soon I'm moving to Florida. We have been stuck inside for far too long without seeing our friends or doing fun activities. We have watched way too much TV. And I don't know how many more times I can push the train around the track before I lose it. Like send me to the nuthouse lose it.
Lately I have just felt like I am missing the mark so much. I lose my patience quickly. Give in too easily. Neglect the activities I have planned (all that time spent on Pinterest!) in lieu of another episode of Thomas. I didn't make those sensory bottles for Judah yet. We're only on letter B with Micah. I didn't make that dinner or bake those cookies. I've been focusing on all the things I haven't done, frustrated because I know I can do so much better. And every morning I pledge to do just that, but then Judah is cranky and takes a long time to go down for his nap. Or Micah is so happy just watching Thomas. And I go to bed feeling like I failed yet again.
Then, there's nights like tonight. Brad was at work so it was just me and the boys at dinner. We are sitting at the table and I tell Micah we have to pray before we can eat. He folds his hands and says, "Dear Lord, thank you for today."
And I just said "Amen."
Amen. Let it be. Not only did my son just pray for the first time ever, but it was so perfect. Thank you for today. For the blessing of this day. For waking us all up this morning. Thank you for the time I had to play with both of my little boys. Thank you for lunch that we all enjoyed together as a family. Thank you for this day, with all of its successes and failures.
Suddenly, I'm not so focused on how I failed, but on what I've done right. Micah prayed for the first time. What a proud moment. Some days you just get it right.