Sometimes, or rather often, life is messy. It isn't wrapped up in bows and ribbons like much of the internet would suggest. My blog is mostly about those ribbon and bows moments, but in truth there are so many more moments that are less than pleasant. I have refrained from blogging about most of them because it feels a bit like airing out dirty laundry. It isn't pleasant for anyone. So after all that I'm going to write about the messy, my messiness, because I want to be better, I want learn, I want to put people first.
Last night, I lost my temper (this happens more than I would like and especially after having a baby because I feel a bit helpless in the family life as most of my day is consumed with nursing and rocking and changing of diapers). I lost my temper with a sweet boy who was called up to help and eagerly did and accidentally dropped the items on a brand new refinished floor leaving a lasting mark not of his mistake, but rather my wrath, my ability to take the sweet joy from his eyes and replace it with tears. Tears that he did not show to me, but quietly went downstairs and let well-up out of sight and out of range of more humiliating yelling.
What makes this all so horrible is that the very night before my sweet husband made the very same accident with the same outcome...a scratch on the new floor. I didn't yell and lose my temper with him, because, well, he's an adult and therefore must already feel horrible and what is done is done. Why do we/I yell at a child when they spill and yet when an adult does life goes on?
One of the most endearing and loving lessons I learned as a child came from my Grandpa, a man that I never in all my life heard raise his voice. I had made a mistake, an accident that could have been avoided. Rather than confess my mistake I hid it and my Grandpa cut his hand as a result. He found me and calmly showed me the result of my actions. He gained my confidence and I knew at that moment I could tell him my faults, failures and mistakes without being humiliated, or belittled or having it define me. I also felt just terrible that my actions resulted in hurting a man I loved dearly. I remember not being afraid to ask Grandpa to help or if I could look at something. I remember just being able to relax around him because he wasn't critical of my every move. I want to parent more like Grandpa, more calm, more patient. I want to realize that the biggest project, improvement, investment or my own life is not material goods at all; it is found in the wide-eyes and listening ears of my children. I want to invest more in them than anything else. I want them to always take pride of place in my heart.
