Mommy’s Musings-2

Whining, whining, whining…

Some days it seems like that is all I hear.

It started early this morning. The baby woke up about 3 hours earlier than normal, and she was not going back to sleep.

She was pretty happy, for about the first 45 minutes…

Her brother woke up in there somewhere and in the morning rush of changing diapers, clothes and getting breakfast, it all starts to fall apart.

She is crying.

He’s telling me “I slapped her head!”

He’s in time-out, yelling for me.

She is happy again and trying to go see him in time-out.

He yells, “Leave me alone, Clainey! I’m in time-out!”

She’s crying again.

I get the baby calmed down.

I go talk to him about why we don’t hit and about sharing, for what seems like the millionth time.

I tell him to tell his sister that he’s sorry.

He says “I’m not.”

At least he’s honest.

*deep breath*

Moments like these make me feel like a failure as a mom. I feel like he should “get it” by now, that I should “get it” by now. What am I doing wrong that makes him continue to think it’s ok to hurt his sister. Why does he think it’s alright to tell me “no”. Why do I feel myself losing my patience.

He finally tells his baby sister sorry and kisses her on the head.

She smiles and starts bouncing on the floor to show him she’s forgiven him.

Then she follows him down the hall.

And it begins again.


I get the boy settled in with “Guess with Jess” our new favorite show.

I scoop the girl up, find her blankie and take her to the rocking chair. I kiss her cheeks snuggle her close and nurse her. She rests her sweet little feet on the arm of the chair, swings her blankie around and rubs it on her face and between her little toes. And then she smiles at me and starts to fall asleep. Once she’s asleep her little head flops to the side with milk on her cheek. She’s left her signature ear print in my forearm.

These are my favorite moments. The quiet ones. The ones where all seems right in the world.

I go back to the living room.

I ask the boy what he would like to do.

We play “fireman blocks”.

We build a firehouse.

We build “big, huge, monster fire trucks” and towers and we crash them.

We laugh.

We talk.

We snuggle a bit.

I tell him I love him.

He says “I love you too, Mommy!”

Then I feel it. I feel the quiet and firm hand of conviction. I know that He is trying to teach me today. He is showing me that I treat Him just like my son treats me.

He asks me what I did.

I tell Him.

He sends me to time-out.

I yell at someone that doesn’t deserve it.

He tells me to repent and I say “I’m not sorry.”

I say sorry even if I don’t quite mean it yet.

And every time he scoops me up, tells me He loves me, shows me He loves me.

There are differences between me and God. He is not and never will be a failure.

I will lose my patience.

I will not be paying attention when I should be.

I will try to control situations that aren’t mine to control.

I will ignore Him and do something He’s told me not to.

And every time, He will be right there to help me get back to where I’m supposed to be.

To help me move forward.

To show me where to go next.

Exodus 34:5-9

5 The Lord descended in the cloud and stood with him there and proclaimed the Lord by name. 6 The Lord passed by before him and proclaimed: “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, and abounding in loyal love and faithfulness, 7 keeping loyal love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. But he by no means leaves the guilty unpunished, responding to the transgression of fathers by dealing with children and children’s children, to the third and fourth generation.”

8 Moses quickly bowed to the ground and worshiped 9 and said, “If now I have found favor in your sight, O Lord, let my Lord go among us, for we are a stiff-necked people; pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance.”


I ask you today, to make me like Moses, bowed down before you. That when I do wrong I see it. That I come to you. That I see even when I am stiff-necked and soaked in sin that you have taken me for Your inheritance. That I am the one You chose to raise my children and be my husband’s wife. I can only be what they need me to be through You. You do not expect perfection, but you do expect me to give my life and my family to you. Help me to do that even when it’s hard.


By | 2017-02-20T04:50:56+00:00 September 11th, 2015|Mommy's Musings|0 Comments

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