48 Hour Day

I feel like this day was twice as long as usual. Time was moving in slow motion. One clear example of this was when we went to the park this afternoon. The kids had been cranky all day for no clear reason. They didn't nap at all. So at 2:30 I thought we better get out of the house before I lose my mind. I thought the park sounded like a great idea. But it was hot! The slides were flesh-burning firetraps. The kids faces were red. I was exhausted. I looked at my watch and we had only been there 5 minutes! 5 stinking minutes! It felt like we had been there a lifetime. I sighed and tried to shift my thinking. This can be fun, I know it can! We played for a while and when I checked my watch again, 3 minutes had passed. We eventually stayed at the park about 25 minutes. Perhaps the longest 25 minutes of my life.

Tonight the kids continued to fuss all evening. And then "the swing incident" occurred. Nate was swinging on his stomach on the backyard swing when one of the ropes broke. He came crashing down. The worst part about it was that he was holding a marker, yes a marker of all things, in his hand at the time. His cheek landed full force on the marker. He got a huge ugly bruise on his cheek, and a scratch from there to above his eyebrow. The marker had slid up as he fell causing a trail of damage. Of course, I was hyperventilating about how my son's eye could have been poked out. His eye was fine, but just the idea of it was mortifying. We all ran inside so I could access the damage and calm Nate down. As I was doing this, Lucas climbed up on the small art table and proceeded to fall. Now I had two screaming children. I felt like screaming, too. Lucas was fine. Nate was fine. I was ready to put everyone to bed at 6:00 PM.

Sometimes I feel a tad overwhelmed as a mother. I mean, I've got these three children that I must keep safe from physical, emotional, and spiritual harm. But I can't even control every aspect of the day in order to ensure their complete safety. I've got to try and teach them skills they will need in order to succeed. I want to instill some sense of love for others and desire to obey God. I want to be a constant source of support, love, encouragement, and discipline for them. But I am only human. I mess up a lot. I let my kid play with markers while swinging.

This is when I like to turn to an analogy I read about in Gary Thomas' book The Beautiful Fight. In it he says that parenting is like being an assistant coach. The head coach is, of course, God. We aren't in it alone. In fact, we aren't even completely in charge. We are under the supervision and guidance of the coach. We discuss things with him. We can see where he is trying to cause growth or maturation in "the player." We can defer to his wisdom. It doesn't mean we don't have a job to do. The assistant coach is responsible for many things.

Well, this assistant coach is absolutely exhausted from practice today. I think I'll go hit the showers.