Would I be lying if I said that staying home is easy?
It's harder than I ever thought it could possibly be.
Long hours.
No nights or weekends off.
Would I be a horrible mom if I said that there have been {recent} times that I've thought 'I don't want to have any more children' {because I don't want to experience this again}?
Sometimes this job is so hard,
I think 'I couldn't possibly want to do this again.'
Would I be wrong if I thought this job, being a mom, was really a way that God wants to continue to grow and to mold {prune really} my character?
I've never seen the ugliest side of my
selfish nature like I have these last 6 months.
Tonight was a rough one. For what ever reason sleep was fought. It was fought the strongest it's been fought so far. There were tears involved, by both of us. As much as I am against CIO methods, it got to a point where I'm not sure that it mattered if I was holding and bouncing her or if she was laying in her crib. The crying was intense.
As difficult as it is to admit, I lost my temper in the form of a growl of frustration. This in turn only sent the already on-the-verge-of-hystarical upset E into a startled uproar. Let me just say that it was not pretty. And I'm not proud of my lowest moments.
At this point I just had to stop. I turned on the dim light {the one we use in the night only if we need to see, it's actually a blue light bulb} and unwrapped E from her wrap that she sleeps in. She slowly started to settle down. However, no matter how I tried I could not get her to look at me. We sat in the glider and she leaned on me, completely relaxed, but wouldn't look at me for anything in the world.
After we rocked for a few minutes, in complete silence, my heart was softened and I couldn't hold back so instead I full on apologized for losing my temper. I kissed my sweet girl's head and caressed her foot {which she was using to distractingly play with the arm of the chair}. She looked up at me, only after I had apologized, and we finally made eye contact. She gave me a smile, her toothless grin that melted my heart like never before. Her little hand reached up and touched my mouth and she said something in her 'baby-talk.' And I knew that she had forgiven me. We had made up.
It was the sweetest exchange I had ever experienced.
We continued to rock and to quietly play together. And it was then and there that I decided to always, no matter what has taken place between us, to always apologize and ask for her forgiveness. To never ever let a wronging on my part go with out making it right. Making it right in her eyes, and in the Lord's eyes.
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Psalm 127:3
