A Mess-Making 3 Year Old Parable. I Guess.

I started getting this post ready for the lovely blog, but I was trying to take some of the most important parts of it out because we don't always get overtly religious on the lovely blog because of the multiple writers with many backgrounds, so I just decided to post it here.

Post-Christmas blues hit me really hard this year. We came back from Texas, my husband went back to work, my parents went on a 3 week trip to Australia, and the boundaries for my church congregation changed while we were out of town, so I was no longer had working with the young women to look forward to every Sunday and Wednesday night. My kids had a major case of the post-vacation grumpies, as did I, and I just felt incredibly frustrated and snappish, which of course reflected back to me in the behavior of my 3 year old. It was rough.

After about 3 days of just feeling like I was about to burst into tears any second, I came home one night, put the girls to bed, and while my husband finished up some work I took a long bath, read some scriptures to try to fill myself with more kindness, said some long prayers for patience with my little people and myself, and put myself to bed early.

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. I wasn't short with my babies, I spent time cuddling them and drawing with them and dancing with them. We went to the library and they were sweet and patient with each other. CB was having quiet time and I kept hearing her in the bathroom running water, but I figured she was getting some water for her teapot or something. When CB came to get me during quiet time and asked for help getting "the yellow stuff" off her hands, which turned out to be some diaper ointment that she had spread ALL OVER THE ROOM, I stayed calm. I helped her clean her hands, I told her we'd deal with it later, I had one of those moments of clarity where I realized the panic she'd been feeling trying to clean it up herself without any luck was probably enough punishment, and she didn't need me to add my lecture to it. We read library books, we cooked dinner together, we had a lovely day.

But of course, by the end of the week, I was stressed and frustrated and feeling lonely and isolated again, and I had to start all over again trying to get my head into a good place. Eric was gone for a good part of the weekend and by Sunday night I was once again not feeling terribly patient as I put my babies to bed, especially when their laughing and giggling together in their room turned into overtired wailing.

I've been thinking a lot about myself in terms of that sticky, greasy stuff CB spread all over her room. I think sometimes we don't know why we do the things we do - why we waste our time on our phones instead of engaging or why we yell at preschoolers to remember to pick up their things (when it's not like my room is spotless either) and feel angry when a toddler decides she wants to throw a screaming fit because she got water instead of milk at bedtime. Sometimes it just seems like a good idea, so we spread the stuff around, day after day after day, and then it's really hard to clean up. And we feel even more frustrated because it won't wipe up and it won't go away, and it stains stuff and it smells, and why on earth did we wipe it on the paper lamp that's going to have a grease stain on it forever, and why did I put a paper lamp in a room for toddlers anyway (whoops, got a bit distracted there, didn't I?) and it just seems like it will never get better.

I think I'm a lot like CB with her diaper ointment spread all over. I don't always know how to clean up the messes I make. Sometimes I don't know how to pull myself out of the ruts I am in and make my life better than it is, and I need someone to help me figure it out - someone who knows more than I do. I said such sincere prayers the other night and it so helped, but then I go out and do my thing again without saying the sincere prayers for help, so of course I flounder again. Just like I know that Clara's problem will get better with some wipes and some dish soap, I believe my Heavenly Father is just waiting to help me solve my problems or at least make them easier - or to help me to gain more patience and perspective - but I try to just solve it myself instead and I end up feeling so frustrated because I don't have answers, and I don't know why I feel sad and frustrated sometimes, and I don't know how to feel more fulfilled about some aspects of my life. I think prayer and the influence of the spirit are like the dish soap I used to help CB get that greasy ointment off my hands, but I waste so much time trying to just clean it up with water instead. Ugh.

Anyway. All of this is to say that I sometimes am angry with myself for making things harder than they need to be, but I keep doing it anyway, and I'm trying to stop it.