I cannot tell you the exact moment it finally hit me, but it was very recently…
The last few weeks of December seemed to go on forever and ever. The longer Hayden was out of school the more out of routine our family became. I felt all I did the entire day, every day, was say “No! Stop it! Leave your brother/sister alone! That is his/her toy, give it back!” On top of that they both seem to be really cranky towards each other and Kerry and myself. My “angels” were driving me crazy.
I’ve always known that siblings fought. I can recall numerous arguments between my little brother and myself. Once I was livid with him because he kept saying “you’re Gaston, you’re Gaston, you’re Gaston” (villain from Beauty and the Beast, trust me, it was a horrible insult at the time). I finally had my fill and hit him in the nose, but then I quickly began apologizing because I didn’t want to him to tattle.
Okay, back to my children. I was counting down the days when school would start back. I felt if we just had our schedule and routine back that all would be well, and I simply wanted a break from the chaos!
Somewhere in all that mess God began to reveal my role in all this. “What Lord?!” I began questioning God. “How on earth is THEIR constant fighting in any way my fault?” “I am simply trying to keep them from destroying each other and my sanity!”
Why I continue to question God when He’s always proven to be right in my own life is baffling, I know. He CREATED me—very stubborn at that—but I always feel the need to debate Him at first. I think He probably laughs at my ridiculousness…very often.
Anyhow, after I wrapped up my closing argument for why my five-year-old and two-year-old were at fault (I know…so mature), God began to reveal my attitude and how it was affecting our family… especially my morning attitude.
I am what you call “not a morning person.” Actually, that is a bit of an understatement. I despise early morning. Now to add to this problem Kerry and Hayden are not morning people either. So you have three very grouchy people in our family come morning, and then there is my Deacon.
Deacon has always been a morning child. He wakes up so happy and ready for the day. Naps he wakes up somewhat cranky, but morning he is all smiles. Lately Deacon has started climbing out of his crib (yes crib, we haven’t transferred him yet) and marching directly in to our bedroom somewhere between 6:00 & 6:30 AM every morning. He has never been a quiet child, and morning is no exception. He bursts into our room every morning like the police and announces one of the following:
“MaaaaaMaaaaa, Daaaaaadeeeee, wake up! I want nanna (banana) and shamwich (peanut butter sandwhich)!
Or
“I go pee pee da potty” (translation: take me to the potty)…
Or
“I wanna watcha shows!” (turn the TV on now, preferably to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse)
He is so chipper, peppy, and loud. Every morning I am cranky and annoyed. I’m sure as you are reading this you are feeling terrible for my poor son, as you should, since I am a grizzly bear at this hour.
Then it’s time to wake my junior grizzly bear for school. I get really cranky with her because I have to drag her out of bed daily. When she does get up, she stares at herself in the mirror for 10 minutes before she’ll actually brush her teeth. Kerry and I are baffled by this one, and I promise she does it without fail, every day. We then must tell her multiple times to get dressed as she pokes along. I surprisingly have no empathy for her even though I am responsible for passing on this anti-morning gene.
Let me take a brief moment to say something to my dear mother. Mom, I do realize I was this same child—minus the mirror debacle—and I’m so sorry.
People, you really do pay for your raising. All teens out there, pay close attention, your current obnoxious attitudes/habits will come back to haunt you one day…in your children.
Anyhow, this is how I started off my mornings—for way too long. God has shown me my mornings (along with every other part of the day) belong to Him. I was wasting them on my cranky selfish attitude. My sinful attitude set the tone for me and my children very early in the morning and sometimes carried throughout the day. This is tragic to me now looking back. I’ve wasted a whole lot of time with these precious babies of mine. My justifications for not being a “morning person” were garbage to me now (as I’m sure they were to God).
“God forgive me; I love my husband and children too much to continue on with this morning attitude.” I decided as much as a struggle it was I would allow God to begin changing my morning attitude. I still do not leap out of bed every morning with a huge smile on my face. I have let a snappy moment or two slip out a few times. But when my little ball of energy bursts into our bedroom at 6:00 AM roaring and ready to go I pray, and try to make a conscience effort to give him the loving mama he needs.
I’ve heard people with grown children say over and over again that I should cherish my children now while they’re little because it goes by really fast. I’ve always known that (Hayden really should still be a baby), but I didn’t internalize it until now. I love these two precious children more than life itself. Even though they drive me nuts sometimes I am learning to appreciate and soak up every minute I have with them.
I have prayed for a long time above all else when my children see me they see Jesus and his love in me. But I wasn’t allowing Jesus love to be seen in me in the mornings. I don’t think--I know--Jesus would not have the attitude I had when woke up every early morning.
I’ve wasted enough of my children’s years with that anti-morning mess. My kids are going to see my love pouring out for them whether it’s 6:00 AM or 6:00 PM. This family of mine is a gift from God and I refuse to treat it any other way.
“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” –Proverbs 17:22
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