Yesterday was a really rough day. Cap had a really bad day at school. The teacher said he was "having trouble hitting", broke all of his crayons and was just angry all day. Both Cap and Skidamarink were grouchy on the walk home from school. Cap because I wouldn't stop to put his coat on in the 80 degree weather and Skidamarink because I wouldn't let him cross the street by himself. They both cried the entire way home. So we got home, I immediately put both of them in bed. The little one I watch arrived a few minutes later. His contribution to the chaos was an extremely messy, change-the-clothes-and-mop-the-floor dirty diaper.
By the end of the day I had a tear-stained face, three cranky children, baby food covered clothes, a dirty-diaper smell that I couldn't get rid off, a migraine and morning sickness. It was not a good day.
And yet...
For such a bad day it had some beautiful moments. Like when I was washing dishes and couldn't help but sit right down on the floor in the kitchen, scoop Skid up into my lap and cover him with hugs and kisses. Or the conversation I had with Cap about his day at school...
After he had rested for awhile, I called him back out into the living room to sit and talk with me. I asked him what had happened in school. He shared with me that a boy in his class had been hitting him and he started hitting him back. I have no idea if that's what happened. The school's policy seems to be not to disclose any information involving other students (A really frustrating policy when you only hear part of the story. There's a little difference in how I respond to hearing that my son is randomly hitting other students and how I respond to hearing that my son takes a swing at a kid who is continually hitting/pushing/bullying the girls in the classroom. I really don't want him hitting, but there is an significant difference in motivation here!)
We spent some time talking about how hitting is not good and how he should not hit others. We talked about how hitting feels and how important it is to think of how other people feel. And now comes the shining moment of the day: Cap broke down in tears saying, "Mommy, I want to repent!" (Phraseology that he picked up watching What's in the Bible?) He got down on his knees, buried his face in his hands and cried. I pulled him into my lap and asked if I could help him. I helped him find the words as we prayed together, asking God for forgiveness and for help treating others with love. Then I wrapped him up in a hug and just held him for awhile, giving him a tangible experience of forgiveness.
Those are the moments that make it all worth it. For awhile I struggled with my decision to stay at home with my kids and how it would look to others. Doesn't it make me look like a failure? I mean I'm a decently intelligent and capable woman. I got accepted into a highly selective pre-med program. I could have done something. It's moments like these that have taught me to have confidence in my decision. All of the baby poop, splattered food, noise, mess and chaos is more than made up for by those spontaneous moments of guiding my little living epistles to the Father. What more challenging, significant and breathtakingly honorable occupation could I ever have?
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