Two Small Children and a Pot of Patience

   The alarm awakens me at the bright and early hour of 6 a.m.  I try to stay awake, but alas, sleep overcomes me again.  I sit straight up and glance at the clock.  It is now 6:30.  I groan and turn on the light in an attempt to keep my eyes open.  I prop up some pillows, grab my Bible and bow my head. 
   My prayers are sometimes interrupted by my busy mind.  Sometimes I dream up things I'd like to say to Mrs. Busybody (Which is a complete waste of time as I know that I will never say these things anyway.  Nor are they very Christian things to verbalize or even think for that matter.)  Or I get lost in the tasks that need to be completed that day. 
   I catch myself daydreaming and give myself a stern lecture about being self disciplined.  Lecture completed, I offer my petitions and thanks to my Abba in heaven. 
   My chosen Scripture for the day encourages me to cast my cares on to Christ and follow Him.  I pray again for Mrs. Busybody.  I pray for an extra dose of patience, love and kindness for those with whom I may come in contact on this day. 
   I am feeling good!  I decide that I'm going to bake a batch of cookies to take to our widowed neighbor today.  With that thought in mind, I prepare myself for the day.
   O!  I hear the baby waking up!  I glance at the clock, it's a little earlier than I had hoped, but I'll work with it.  I run upstairs careful to be as quiet as possible.  I open the door and greet my baby with a "Hi lovey!  You're up!"  She jumps up and down in the crib and laughs.  I neglect to pull the pacifier out of her mouth and throw it back into the bed.  I'm halfway down the steps before I remember that I should have left it in her room so that it is there when she needs it for her nap.  Oh, well, I'll just have to remember to bring it back up later when I put her down.
  As I am tiptoeing down the steps, I hear my toddler crying in her room because I haven't stopped in to get her up.  I figure that she can make her own way down as I have my hands full already. 
   I hit the landing and remember that I should start a load of laundry.  I run down to the basement and set the baby down.  She goes ballistic.  Screaming and crying, crawling after me and hanging on my leg as I am trying to gather the dirty laundry. 
   About this time I hear the toddler at the top of the basement steps crying her heart out.  She too is very upset at Mommy because, well, just because.
   I grab the baby and figure out that I can't carry both the laundry and the baby up the steps, so I take the baby up, put up the baby gate, crawl over it, and run down the steps and grab the laundry cart.  I struggle up the steps (dirty laundry is heavy!).  The whole time I am listening to my children harmonize, their cries mingled with angry screams of rage at the audacity of their mother to leave them alone for 1 minute!
  I get to the top of the steps, they are hanging on the gate looking like two ripe red tomatoes, the veins in their heads bulging a purplish color.  I balance the laundry cart, gently pry their fingers off the gate and slowly navigate through them to the middle of the room.  I turn and re-install the baby gate.
   I gather both girls to me and make my way toward the kitchen.  Once there, I sit in a chair.  This of course brings a new round of tears from the baby as she is impatient for her bottle.  I set her on the floor which only makes her livid.  (Did I mention that she is also teething which does not make for a happy mood.)  I am trying to talk to my toddler and reassure her that I love her.  I set the toddler on the counter while I prepare the bottle.
   My toddler is begging me for juice and I promise her that I will get her some juice just as soon as the baby has her bottle.  The baby is now hanging on my legs crying as though her heart was completely irreparable.  I turn my back to the toddler whilst I fill the bottle with water.  The toddler decides that it would be fun to play with the pepper shaker which is conveniently located by her right hand.  Mommy is oblivious.
   I give the bottle to the baby and lie her on the carpet to enjoy her formula.  I turn and see the toddler happily shaking pepper ALL over the stove and floor.  I yelp, catch myself and bring my emotions under control before I speak.  (I have enough presence of mind to grab the camera and take a pic of the disaster for the far distant day when I will laugh about this.)  I gently take the shaker away from her and explain about being wasteful and tell her that she shouldn't ever do that again.  She looks at me with those big blue eyes and says, "OK Mommy."  Then the sneezing begins.  She reaches to rub her nose and gets pepper up her nose and in her mouth.  We now have a BIG problem. 
   After washing her off and giving her a glass of milk to cut the sting, the baby crawls over and offers up a sweet smile.  Her mood is much brighter after her bottle.  I scoop her up and plop her in her highchair.  I should explain that she has a deep dislike for her highchair.  No one can figure it out.  She begins making music again.  The toddler begins to whine for pop tarts.
  After much ado, the children are fed.  I glance at the clock.  It's only 8:30, 12 more hours until bedtime.  Lord, help me!
   I change diapers and dress them, and our work day officially begins.  I glance about the messy kitchen and decide that I can clean it up after the baby goes down for her morning nap.  She likes to unload the dishwasher as fast as I can load it.
   I remember that I haven't started the laundry and I begin to work on that.  I hear a new round of tears from the living room as the toddler instructs the baby not to play with her dollies.  If I ignore it, it might go away...right?
  Another glance at the clock tells me that the baby is due for a nap.  I swoop her up and run up the steps.  She dives for the crib and I search for her pacifier.  My head droops.  It's downstairs somewhere.  I grab her out of bed and lug her downstairs and spend 5 minutes looking for the pacifier.  Then I remember that it's probably in the basement.  I run down and find it on the floor. (Yuck!)  After washing it off, I run up two flights of steps and put her to bed.  "Sweet dreams little one."
   I return downstairs and look in on my toddler happily playing "house" with her babies.  I head into the kitchen to clean up the breakfast mess.  All it takes is the sound of running water to bring my toddler out to "help".  I hear the sound of her chair being pushed across the kitchen and then feel a searing pain as she cracks my ankle with it.  She confidently climbs up on the chair and instantly commandeers the water spigot.  She likes to spray it... everywhere.
   I grit my teeth, but continue doing my job as best I can.  I remind myself that it's just water and it is easy to wipe up.  I am trying not to think about the dirt on the floor that will undoubtedly turn into mud.  I do find enjoyment as I listen to her happy prattling about this and that.  I smile, "What a sweetheart!".
   I make suds in the sink to wipe the table and counters.  This thrills my little miss and she promptly begins to spread bubbles on everything within reach, including the window and picture frames sitting on the sill.  I put a stop to that action, to which she replies so innocently, "But Mommy, I'm cleaning!"
  I finally finish with the dishes.  I groan as I survey the floor which has indeed turned into a muddy river bottom.  I head off to retrieve the vacuum.
   The phone rings and I spend 45 minutes planning a church carry-in dinner.  I sigh, that's another thing I'm gonna have to remember to email to the bulletin lady at church.  I make myself a note that I have to purchase and fry 15lbs of hamburger, make enough rice for 50 people, 2 gallons of tea, and remember to get plenty of ice for the gathering.  A trip to the grocery store is in order.  I fairly weep at the thought of packing everyone one up and going to town.  Someone is going to have to miss a nap and I really don't want to suffer the consequences of their lack of sleep in the grocery store.  "I'll call Grandma and have her babysit.  Yeah, Grandma!  She's always happy to spend time with her grandbabies!"   I'll go tomorrow.  I can't handle it today. That being settled in my mind, I move on. 
   I walk past the bedroom and get a glimpse of my unmade bed.  I quickly make it up.  I hear the beep of the washing machine.  After hanging the clothes on the line and starting another load, I run down to the basement to retrieve the mop.  I battle guilt the whole way because I know that according to some in my circle a floor isn't really clean unless you get on your hands and knees to scrub it.  I stuff down the guilt and grab the mop and bucket.
   "Mommy, I have to potty!"  I help her get situated.  "Mommy, you sit."
   "No honey, I'm going to go put water in my bucket.  You call me when you're done."
   I take the few steps to the kitchen and begin to run hot water.  I am distracted by a glance at the clock which tells me that my man is going to be home for lunch and I had better start thinking about what I'm gonna make.  I shut off the water and run down to the basement to get meat out of the freezer.
   Once back in the kitchen I remember my original task.  I again start the tap to fill the bucket. 
   "Hi Mommy!"  I turn to see my toddler standing there with a grin on her sweet little face.  "I went stinky all by myself!"  My heart stops.
   "Honey!  Why didn't you call Mommy to help you off the potty?"
   She is offended by my lack of trust in her abilities.  "No, Mommy, I do it myself!" 
   I pick her up and head back to the bathroom.  Sure enough there is a mess that needs attention.  I run to the kitchen and make that bucket of hot soapy water.  I clean up the mess and dump the water.  After changing the toddler's clothes, I give her hugs and kisses to assure her that I'm not mad. 
   I hear the baby waking up.  I run upstairs to get her.  I run back downstairs.  It's decision time.  Am I gonna try mopping with a crawler or should I give it up as a lost cause?
  I decide to be brave and try it.  I again start the hot water and pour in the soap.  This makes bubbles which as I mentioned before is hard for my toddler to resist.
  "Mommy, I thirsty."  After pouring her a glass of juice, and reminding her not to fuss because it's a big girl cup and not a sippy, I commence with the mopping. 
   Sure enough, the baby wants in on the action and is trying to dump the bucket.  I take both children to the living room to divert their attention.  This works for about 5 minutes.
   The toddler comes sailing into the kitchen and falls on her rear.  I mop up the tears (yes, literally) and warn her that it's slippery.  About that time the baby comes crawling out to see what the commotion is.  She too does a face plant.  I give up.  I shall finish later.
   The second load of laundry is done.  I put the baby in the clothes basket and pile the wet laundry on top of her leaving her head and arms out.  She giggles and begins throwing the clean clothes on the dirty floor. I close my eyes and tell myself that she doesn't know any better. I grab up the basket and struggle out to the line. 
   As I come back in I again glance at the clock.  Time to make lunch.  I have meat out, but what in the world am I gonna make?  I decide on something quick and easy and begin preparation.  The toddler feels it her duty to "help" and pushes her chair over which again winds up thwacking me on the leg.  The chair must be positioned in the direct middle of the action, thus making it very hard for Mommy to work.  Baby feels a need to be included and fusses and hangs on to Mommy's leg until obliged.
   During preparations, cheese lands on the counter, all over the portion of floor that is actually clean, and yes, inside two little bellies.  Not to mention the many utensils that end up on the floor or in their mouths.
   The toddler decides that she is thirsty.  She spills her juice on the portion of floor that is clean.  I begin to scold.  I catch myself and shut my mouth... tight.  I get the baby off the counter and put her on the floor.  I turn to get a rag.  Before I know it, the baby is splashing in the juice.  On her hands and knees, she puts both little hands in it and immediately looses balance and slides through the juice.  I am about ready to go crazy.  I clean up the mess and change the baby.
   The clock is telling me that I am behind on lunch.  I scurry to prepare.  My hubby walks in a little early and is slightly put out that I am not ready.  I remind him in a tone that is straining to remain calm that he is 15 minutes early and explain that I've had a rough morning.  As it turns out, he must eat and run, so the sooner we can eat the better.  I try not to fume.
   Where is that extra dose of patience, love, and kindness that I prayed for in the beginning of this day?
  Lunch is served.  No dessert.  (Which is rather hard on my hubby as he has a sweet tooth.)  After the usual struggle to feed two little ones, it is time for kitchen clean up... again.  I decide to load the dishwasher in spite of the baby.  She cheerfully unloads it as I load it.  The toddler again sprays water everywhere.
   FINALLY it is time for naps.  I take the baby down to the basement.  She takes her afternoon nap there because she wakes the toddler up if put upstairs with her.  She snuggles down in the pack'n'play.  What a dolly!  How can anyone resist her?  (Only a Mommy can forget the trials of the morning when looking on the contented form of her precious baby.)  I am overwhelmed with love for her as she drifts off to dream land.
   I get the toddler ready for her nap.  She resists.  Which only reinforces my suspicion that she is very tired.  As I lug her up the stairs, I try to think happy thoughts.  I put her in bed, give kisses and turn to go.  She wants the bear that is downstairs.  I run down the steps, get the bear, and run back up.  Her smile is worth the frustration.  My heart melts.  I only have a short amount of time when she is this little and cuddly. 
   Ahhh, peace and quiet for the next two hours.  I sit down for a small rest and take up a book.  The baby wakes up early.  I get the laundry in and neatly fold it.  The baby pulls it all out onto the floor when my back is turned.  I refold and set the basket up out of reach.  As she didn't have a long enough nap, baby is cranky and clingy.  I sit down to hold her. 
   The toddler wakes up and desires to be held for at least 20 min.  So we read stories together.  I put the baby down for her third nap of the day. 
   Shoot!  It's time to think about supper!  Panic!  What am I gonna make?  We have plenty of garden produce right now, so I decide on BLT's.  That's easy enough.  Another run to the basement to get the bacon out of the freezer.  (You would think I'd be skinny as a rail with all the flights of stairs I navigate in a normal day.  I wish!)
  After one tearful call to my Mom (who is a state away and unable to help), supper preparations, and another hurried good-bye to my man as he heads back out to the fields, it is bath time.
   There is much splashing and I am wet clear through.  The hair must be washed, much to the disappointment of the toddler.
   Jammies are donned and more stories are read.  Prayers are said and kisses and tickles are given. 
   Before I walk out of my girls' rooms, I always make a point to tell them that I love them and that they are precious to me.  And every time I say it, I mean it with all my heart.
   As I survey the chaos that is my house, my heart wells with gratitude that God has blessed me with two little people to love and cherish. 
  As I flop into the lazy boy, I grin because only half of my linoleum is mopped, there is still dirty laundry, and I never did get around to baking cookies for the neighbor.  I sigh as I think back over my day and wonder what in the world I accomplished.  Then I remember that it's OK.  This is where I am in life right now.  Someday my babies won't be little.  I will wish for these days again. (Though I suspicion that it might be a looooong time from now.)  I am indeed blessed.
   God has me in the refining pot right now.  He wants to develop my character.  Especially in the areas of patience and gentleness.  May I quickly learn the lessons!