Seeping Syrup

(source)

Oh, how I felt it today!  I felt the pressure of parenthood seeping down on me like maple syrup does to Belgian waffles.  You can see it drizzling down in a steady stream one moment and then a second later you don't know where it went.  So you better pour on some more, right?

(My analogies are awesome. Really, I should be a public speaker just so you can see me on stage with a waffle maker and Grade B maple syrup.  It will be a riveting moment.  One that will forever change your destiny, I am sure.)

But here is where my seeping begins and where I hope it will one day end.  Waffles can get entirely too soggy, after all.

Today my children fought.  First with each other and then with me.  And I wanted to pray.  I really did.  I wanted to feel a loving parenting prayer in my heart so that I could keep my cool and have God rescue me from my madness.

But instead I found myself saying things like, "stop acting like a baby," and "do you know what the word spoiled means?" 

Horrific.  Seeping.  Awful.  Seeping.  Is there a training manual for this stuff?  Seeping.

There was such attitude, and frankly, I don't know if it is because she is growing up or if I am not handling this the right way.  Does one ever feel like they are handling things the right way? For instance, today I did not...at all.  In fact, I didn't do too well yesterday now that I am thinking about it.

Somebody please teach me.  Please oh please oh please.

Sometimes I see parents whose children sit on the front row at church and don't move.  They don't even need snacks.  Or coloring books.  Or things to keep their attention for an hour where a whisper is deemed too loud.

But that is not me and mine alone.   Mine are the grown up children at 5+ years who touch and prod and whisper LOUDLY and who completely embarrass me outright.  I meant to apologize to the couple behind me today.  We sat in front of them last week as well and I had forgotten to play musical chairs so that those around us did not feel constantly annoyed. My son's cast was kicked wildy about as I tried to calm his wiggles and my daughter fought to keep him off herself.

It was loud.  It was obvious.  It was hard.  And I wanted to cry with exhaustion.  They are older.  I don't have a misbehavior due to age excuse.  I don't have a reason why my son hit a kid in his class and had to be taken outside.  I don't have a reason why my daughter has taken the liberty of discovering back-talk.  I don't have a reason why I am so distressed at the fact that I feel like I can't handle my own kids sometimes.  Why asking them to pray is like pulling teeth.  Why getting Lego's picked up off the floor takes hours (literally) of back and forth time-outs.  Why fighting is common among siblings in my home and right now...between a mom and child.

SEEPING.

This parenting gig is HARD.  I wish I knew what the heck I was doing.  I wish I felt like I wasn't constantly screwing up my kids with how I possibly handled a situation wrong. I wish I just knew how.to.do.this.

And yet...

Thankfully,

There are gorgeous moments.  The kind that make you forget how awful it was just minutes before and make your heart swell with gratitude to be their Mother. How hugs and kisses and storybooks and pillow fights are abundant. How night comes and the world is still as if to remind you to breathe. 

And after I love you's are said before slumber and after your knees have hit the floor in a pleading yet grateful prayer, there is a peaceful feeling that it will all work out in the end.

And that this waffle will somehow turn out to be delicious--completely and entirely smothered in sticky syrup.  Sometimes soggy is best.