Friday, May 31, 2013

I Spilled my Bucket

I have discovered something about myself.  I have a big bucket of patience, but little tiny pebbles get poured into the bucket leaving less room for the water/patience.  The more annoyances that are added, the less patience I have.  Annoyances are tiny, most people wouldn't even notice them, but they leave a fine layer of sand on the bottom of my bucket.

Yesterday's annoyance during dinner time was:
1. a sticky kitchen and dining room floor - despite being cleaned 3 times.
2. a toddler screaming in her high chair, just because her voice is so awesome that all must want to hear it.
3. Working quickly to get dinner on the table before all 5 children run away from the table
4. Discussing the weeks upcoming activities.
5. (the big one) a 10 year old who tells you that you are WRONG.  Repeatedly.  All.The.Time.  Even when I am mid-sentence.

So, when for the third time I explained that she did in fact have one less soccer practice on Tuesday and she once again interrupted me mid-sentence to tell me I was wrong.  When I told her that I wasn't wrong and she better not walk away from me AND SHE WALKED AWAY FROM ME . . . . I may have "dropped" a bowl of strawberries to the ground with force and broken the bowl.  Maybe.

I felt better.  Even though now I had to clean the kitchen floor again AND clean up the broken dish.  Plus it was one of my favorite dishes.

Several different things could have happened at this point.  I could berate myself for spilling my bucket of patience or we could learn from what happened.  Here is what I learned.

1.  No one wanted to go tell Daddy what happened.  Several times I suggested someone tell their father so he could help clean up.  Nope.  They preferred to handle it on their own.

2.  Connor immediately started cleaning up the bits of broken bowl.

3.  Lainy Ann refused to let Connor help.  Her words are paraphrased; 'I am the one who made mommy mad because I was rude, so I should clean everything up.'  Then they started fighting about that.  *sigh*

I shouldn't have lost my patience.  I should have balanced that bucket on my head while juggling the balls in the air and riding the unicycle through the kitchen.  But I did.  And my child recognized her role in that mess.  She was willing to clean up that mess.  And her big hearted brother - who was completely innocent - was also willing to help.

Of course the rambunctious-twins used that opportunity to release the kitten from his cage  . . . . . And the toddler kept screaming in her high chair, but now she was mad we wouldn't let her out of the high chair and run around on the floor cutting her feet.  We are so mean.  And thus my bucket acquired more bits of sand . . . .

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