Grinch Pencils

Confession time. In case you haven't caught on to the theme of this blog, let me make it simple: I am a guilt-ridden mom who can only do right by my children thanks to the grace of God. I am constantly messing this whole "mommy" thing up, but I can feel myself being sculpted and refined every day, and for that, I am thankful. With that in mind, let me share today's stellar failure of a moment. It seems I am most inspired to write when I screw up. I guess that's better than labeling the failures of others. At any rate, I had reached a point this morning where I felt the day was going pretty well in Stay-at-Home Mommy Land. We had breakfasted, potty-trained, been hygienic, played wildly and calmly, crafted with paints AND glitter, and read at least a stack of books. Brady was down for his nap, and Seth was diligently at work on a map for his upcoming mission to the moon. I saw an opportunity arise for me to pop in my iPod and sneak in a workout on the treadmill. I made sure Seth had all the supplies he needed, told him to come and get me if he needed me, and was well into tying my running shoes, when he came into the room to ask me if I would sharpen his Grinch pencil. We had given him a set of pencils decorated with "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" in his stocking, and he really, really wanted to use one of them at this very moment. I explained to him that he didn't NEED that pencil sharpened because he had a perfectly good pencil that I had made sure was sharpened and ready to go. He immediately launched into his "But Mommy..." speech, but I didn't hear a word after that because, by this time, the 'song of myself' was playing so loudly in my ears it drowned out his simple reasoning. In my infinite wisdom, I decided to make this a teachable moment. I don't remember the exact words I used, but I very wisely and calmly explained to him that he already had a pencil and that he needed to learn to be content rather than always wanting something more. When he tearfully still insisted on me sharpening his Grinch pencil, I declared it to be nap-time, and told him I would be glad to sharpen that pencil when he got up, but I wanted him to use this as an opportunity to learn to take "no" for an answer. Seriously. That was how I handled it. I hate even typing it, let alone knowing that's how I really dealt with the issue. I could have sharpened twenty Grinch pencils by the time I was finished with my speech and he was settled into his bed. I may have felt an immediate twinge of guilt, but it wasn't until I moved on with the rest of my plan that God made it plain to me just how badly I had screwed up yet again.

I decided to listen to a podcast of a message we missed at church this summer while I ran today. The speaker was talking about families and the significance of relationships in our lives. None of his points were rocket science and he admitted that. I always say, "You are who you hang out with." It's true. Look around you. Whether you want to believe it or not, you can pretty much decide what kind of person you are based on the qualities of the people you choose to spend time with. I mean, you chose them (him/her), right? I'm not going to choose to eat Brussels sprouts; therefore, I will have neither the healthy benefits or the ungodly gas that comes as a result of eating them. It's just a fact. With that in mind, Donnie (the speaker), explained that as a parent, our relationship with our children is so essential that all of our actions and everything we say in their presence is crucial. This is somewhat unfortunate since none of us is perfect, but if we are honest with our kids and vulnerable with them, our shortcomings can help them learn to deal with theirs. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, I immediately realized that I wanted a "do-over" of the previous ten minutes. It wasn't hard for me to see that my little boy wanted something very simple to complete a task that was very big in his mind, and I had launched a grenade at his request. Of all the things I had chosen to say "no" to, this was definitely the one least worth that response. Why even give him the pencils if he can't be allowed to use them when he wants? I had allowed myself to believe that I deserved that time to myself because of all the other great mommy moments I'd had that morning, and I had crossed into another zone mentally the moment I entered my room to work out. Seth became an intruder in my space with his simple request, and I had fought like a cat thrown into a bathtub for what was MINE. It was clear to me that what I needed was a good speech about being...content. Was it not enough that I had a wonderful morning with my two amazing little boys? Was it not enough that we were all here together in our own home, bellies full of breakfast and lunch, minds strong enough to enjoy books and games together? I just had to have more. I just had to choose a sweat session over the ten seconds it would have taken for me to sharpen a pencil that Seth was perfectly content to receive as a gift on Christmas morning. Shame on me. I am thankful that God allowed me to see this so quickly and clearly. It is merciful to realize one's mistakes quickly enough to apologize and make it right in a timely manner. I don't want anyone reading this to think that I am undermining the importance of time to refresh and rejuvenate. I believe that everyone needs time to him or herself. I consider myself a closet introvert and know how important it is to have some time alone each day to recharge. I cherish the times when I can take a nap, sneak in a workout, or drink a cup of coffee while all alone. However, in this situation, I know that my heart was in the wrong place. There are times to say "no," but this was not one of them. I can only hope that I will retain the insight I received today and that my "yes muscle" was strengthened enough to sharpen a Grinch pencil the next time I am asked to do so.