The Case of the Spilled Milk

I've been a stay-at-home-mom for... let's see... one, two, three... three and a half days now. I have failed every single day at being awesome, or even just being good!




Quick recap:

Sunday, I lose patience with my son multiple times, he keeps running away, and Elijah wouldn't go to bed until nearly ten p.m. Like any self-respecting mother with a wedding project to do, I gave him to his father and said, "You handle it, Steve," and worked with Lindsey on the thing we had to do (which I'll tell you about after next weekend because it's a surprise for our Allisha P.). RESPONSIBILITY FAIL.

Monday wasn't so bad, except I lost the work deposit from Saturday and let my baby spill Strawberry Extreme all over himself and now I have lots of laundry which needs soaking in simple green. LAUNDRY FAIL.

And today, Tuesday, it's not even noon! I'm making Stephen some lunch to take to work and Elijah pulls down the entire OPEN jug of milk from the counter. ELIJAH (bless his little heart) SPILLS THE WHOLE THING. I did not react very well to that... mostly because I know there's a gap between the edge of the flooring and the dishwasher. Underneath that gap is floor padding and empty space. If milk was trapped there and went bad... I don't even want to think about it! My reaction to this caused my son to cry, my husband to worry, and caused me to use a roll of paper towels to clean the entire mess up. Needless to say, I grumbled the whole time - at least, until it was clean. 

While apologizing to my husband for losing it, he said "You don't need to apologize to me."
I'm reminded of my friends, the Tademas, and how Elijah Tadema (we call him Big Elijah) once praised his wife for apologizing to his son after she raised her voice to him. What a beautiful example of Godly motherhood!
 
Let me put it this way: How many times have I failed in the last three days? (Don't tell me, I already know.) And how many times has God "lost it" with me? Now that is some perspective.

I try to be always mindful of the sacrifice Jesus made for me. He loves me so much he died for me. If I spilled the milk, even if I did know not to grab from the counter, would he fly off the handle at me or would he make sure I was okay and clean it up graciously in order to be a servant?

Didn't he wash his disciples' feet?

Needless to say, I went into the living room, picked up my son and kissed his beautiful little face. I love that little boy so much, and I know we have a lot of learning to do together. We'll make it work with a little bit of effort, some encouragement, and a God of the Universe who loves us inexplicably.

 
All for now.

Love, Kaela