A battle to the finish

And by finish, I mean either the end of ridiculous behavior on the part of my children.

Or the end of me.

Whichever comes first.

It's uncanny- whenever I try to do something right, it seems that my children are conspiring agents in an attempt to derail me.

Mom wants to get up early to read her Bible & pray that she won't lose her mind today? Let's get up right when she does. Or exercise? Ha. We'll stop that.

Mom and Dad want to work together on a theater production that will minister to people while simultaneously reminding them of their non-parenting gifts and some of the reasons they fell in love (way before we came along)? Ha. Let's flip out at the loss of routine and get up numerous times in the night to compound the lack of sleep we're all feeling. Even better- we can act like nutballs from the very beginning. Let's run around while Mom tries to audition. We might even be able to make her try and give up... or cry. (They did.)

Mom wants to end her isolation after the dreaded Barnes & Noble incident? She actually thinks she can deal with both of us in public? We'll show her.

Our parents want to have friends? So what if they are friends we like? We can't let this healthy thing take place. Let's start acting up the day before they're supposed to get together- every time. Mom will stress out and want to give up way before she gets the house ready or fixes a meal. She might cancel. And if not, well, we'll find a way to ruin the evening...

Mommy's gonna try to blog again, huh? Let's give her some stuff to gripe about. ;)


Okay, so I know (or hope) my kids aren't that malicious. But it does sometimes seem this way. And if I'm not careful, I can let this perception affect the way in which I interact with them. I'm really, really angry with Big Sis this morning. She has completely flipped out over four ridiculously small things in the last 24-hours. Yesterday morning, it was because Little Sis interrupted her at breakfast. Last night it was because we couldn't see the animals after soccer practice, and because I refused to give her gum after the first outburst. This morning, after a smooth morning getting ready for "Western Day" at school (jeans, cute plaid shirt, braids and a sheriff hat) she cried & screamed because she wanted to wear boots. The girl has NEVER owned a pair of boots.

Each of these times, she has totally LOST her mind. And sometimes Little Sis follows right behind her. The educator and psych major in me is analyzing it all, trying to figure out what to do differently, trying to ignore or react appropriately and decide on logical consequences. The mom in me is trying not to lose my cool, doing my best at warding off Mommy guilt, and thanking my husband for investing in a punching bag a few years ago. The human in me- well, she's not taking it so well. She's pretty quick to want to throw in the towel.

And that's the thing about all of this. If I'm really being attacked, it isn't my kids. My kids are kids. They get tired, or hungry, or anxious, or just plain ornery. No- if these are attacks, they have a much deeper spiritual implication and it comes from a place where my weaknesses, my deepest fears and my most sensitive tipping points are well-known.

A friend of mine from college, one with whom I have reconnected on Facebook and blogging, has been faithfully preparing to move to a new state with her family so her husband can serve in a new ministry position. Yesterday I saw on facebook that their car wouldn't start- the day before they are set to move.

And of course, there is the family of little Caleb.

I'm totally not the "spiritual warfare" type person- I've never read This Present Darkness or anything, but it sure seems like something is out to hinder and hold us back from obeying and serving and becoming better examples of Christ. And, while I don't believe God causes these things, big or small, to happen, I DO believe He can be glorified in how we respond.

I'm trying to do what Caleb's family has done. What my friend is doing. Here is what she said on facebook last night: "I have had better days, but so many people are experiencing worst, so I'll put on my big girl pants, praise God for the stuff that really matters and move on!"

Of course- before I could finish typing that, Little Sis interrupted about 40 times, the dog got all wrapped up outside and demolished a rhododendron in the back yard, Hubby got grease or something from the car on his pants as he was leaving for work (in the van with the donut tire that he had to jump to get it to start, by the way) the housework is piling up and on it goes... small things, I know. Frustrations. Attacks? Opportunities.

If I pray for you (and I will), will you say an extra prayer for me?