We make many mistakes as parents. So. Many. Mistakes.
Friday I was directing some of the crowd in how to draw a tiger. Let the record show that if any class I was ever in teased or made fun of the teacher to the extent that my pupils did me, well . . . it would’ve ended in the teacher crying or the class being punished severely. So we have some discipline issues. Anyway, Penny climbed up on my lap, saw my drawing and said, “Howy cwap, mom! Dat’s cweepy.”
The girls have been fighting NON STOP. They wake up snapping at each other and crying. We catch them rolling their eyes and muttering things under their breath. Penny fights with them in her sleep, often angrily yelling a sisters name repeatedly. It has us all at the end of our ropes and this morning it pushed me to make all sorts of threats and I had to physically restrain myself from utilizing adult language.
The lack of care with which they approach their daily duties and chores is maddening especially because it is exactly how I was as I kid. It leaves me at a loss about how to handle it. Speechless even.
But then. . .
But then things happen that remind me that grace is present even in all of our mistakes. Like on Sunday when during the sharing of peace at Mass. Lucy had brought her baby to Mass and she presented her baby’s hand to Max for him to shake. Without the least hesitation, he shook the doll’s hand, saying, “Peace be with you!” Philip, noticing what was happening, reached around Max to extend peace to the baby, too. Lucy beamed and I was misty eyed, abundantly grateful for having witnessed the simple act of generosity and charity. God is good and our kids can be, too.