A tiny whisper in a broken 5-year-old voice said, “Mommy, let’s try again tomorrow.”
I broke. Right there. It was one of those hard days of motherhood.
The day began off. I was tired but we had things to do.
The dishwasher stopped draining right.
The toddler colored green beeswax crayon all over the piano keys, walls, and newly refinished kitchen cabinetry.
There was much complaining about school work.
There was communication breakdown thanks to Apraxia and three-nager-ness.
Nothing we had to eat was “right”.
It was, in Alexander’s words, a terrible horrible no good very bad day.
Then the mommy-monster struck.
There was much yelling and giving of time outs to everyone. There were tears. There was frustration. There were thoughts of yellow busses and resume building.
And then there was grief at all the stolen joy we let slip through our hands.
After dinner there was snuggle time, stories, a new Mr. T song that resembled something of a cross between Jesus loves me and the theme to the Incredibles.
Night night prayers and then this one tiny sentence of repentance and recognition that we could have a better day tomorrow.
That’s all it took.
The attitude issues were mainly mine. How I dealt with situation after situation, creating more chaos instead of grace. All because I refused to show grace to myself first thing and allow a little more “get it together” time for me and that reflected all day long. In case you’ve never had one of those days, they are the pits.
Homeschool is hard. Public school is hard. Preschool is hard. Parenting is hard. Friendship is hard. Life is hard. Sometimes at the end of the day, all that is left is to try again tomorrow.
With grace. With love. With patience.
Knowing we may never have the perfect day, and that’s OK. That’s good, even. We’ll be even more in awe and wonder when we get to Heaven that way.
For now, though, sweet friends, know that you are enough. If it’s midnight where you are, in tears with clenched fists, and regrets from today, tomorrow you get another chance, too.
Motherhood is sanctifying.
Tomorrow is full of new mercies.
We can do this.
Because it is beautiful, this life.
The messes, the dirt, the spills, the boo boos, the character building, the LEGOs, the late night chats, the broken dishes, and all the rest. But we need to be in it together. We mothers, especially.
We need hands and words to hold us up, to encourage, to drop off a latte or hold a crying baby long enough for a shower. Too many times lately I see women passing judgement instead of tissues, dropping snide remarks instead of needed meals, choosing social media perfection instead of real life bless-this-mess.
Together we are stronger. Together we are better.
Let’s try again tomorrow.
Let’s show the world what everyday grace really looks like.