Sunday, March 7, 2010

God is Teaching me a Lesson

Do you ever feel that way? I do today.

Today's lesson: PATIENCE.

Today's teachers: my husband, my daughter, and my in-laws. Mostly my daughter.

All day long I feel like my patience is being tested. And as we all know, that's how God tends to do His greatest teaching.

It started with FireMan this morning. Oh, how he tries my patience at times.

Then after church my in-laws decided they wanted us to look at the house they've put an offer on. Twenty minutes away from anything. Before we go to lunch. And FireMan agrees to this. Sometimes I think they forget that we have a toddler with us. A toddler who misses her morning nap every Sunday because her naptime happens to be the same time as church.
So we take a tired, hungry toddler to look at a house. Every inch of this house. That they've already toured. That they've already put an offer in on. But they just have to show us. Everything. And who gets to watch over this tired, hungry toddler? That's right: Mommy. After 15 minutes at the house, my patience was wearing thin. Another 10 minutes later, after FireGirl had messed her diaper, fallen once inside the house, and fallen once outside the house into a muddy yard, my patience was nearly gone. She was hungry, whiny, so tired that she kept tripping, covered in mud (including her nice church clothes), which meant that Mommy now had mud on her clothes. And yet no one seems to notice but me. And when I tell them FireGirl is hungry and we need to get going, I'm told that I'm being grumpy.
You know what? I was grumpy. We ended up being at that house for 45 minutes.
When we finally leave, I suggest we eat somewhere close. FireGirl needs lunch, something more substantial than the Cheerios she's snacked on. Did you catch that? "Somewhere close" They pick a restaurant 30 minutes away, while there are numerous other choices within 10 minutes. I put my foot down. And at least they have enough common sense not to argue.

Now it was FireGirl's turn to try my patience. Poor baby. I know she was tired. Overly tired. And hungry. Overly hungry. Which made her grumpy. And I was... patient.
Three broken plastic forks, untold thrown food, a drink spilled on Mommy's purse, and several mini-tantrums later I had still managed to keep my composure, find my patience, get her fed, eat something myself, apologize to the waitress for the mess, and get us on our way home. Finally.

And then, in the car, FireMan for some reason felt the need to start in again. Intentinally pestering me to get a reaction. I swear, sometimes he's like the little boy on the playground picking on the girl he likes. And today was not the day.

And now we're home. FireGirl is finally down for her nap. Although the 10 minutes of Zzzzzzz's she got on the way home seem to have given her plenty of energy, as I've been listening to her play in her crib for the past 20 minutes or so. FireMan went to do some maintenance on our rental property. And I am blogging about today's lesson on patience. On being patient. And trying to decide which of the million things on my to-do list I should work on, or if I should just take a nap on this lovely Sunday afternoon.

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