If...

Lucy's "silly guys" are outside our house again! Love this time of year!!!

IF...
I was the dental hygienist who cleaned my teeth this morning, I would have hated me. I would still be talking about the snotty lady with the 8:40 a.m. slot :).

For the record, it is that most challenging week of the month for me when my hormones take over (better known as PMS!). I'm also coming down with a cold and Teresa and I didn't sleep well last night. These are not excuses or justifications, but at least it makes me feel better :).

I was sitting in the waiting room with Justin. We both had appointments to have our teeth cleaned at 8:40. Around 8:55 (not too bad, I guess), I was called back. However, the dental hygienist did not call back, "Trish Bolster." Rather, she kept saying over and over again, "Pat? Pat? PAT?"

I knew she was calling ME. However, I didn't answer. Since I was a girl, I have despised being called, "Pat." Yes, my name is Patricia. And, there is nothing wrong with Pat. In fact, I was named for my aunt, Patricia (Pat) Margaret Mulhern, who sadly died of a sudden brain aneurysm at age 25.

But, Pat is not my name. Only one person in my life has called me Pat. It was Mrs. Irons, my 7th grade social studies teacher at St. Catherine of Siena School in Norwood, MA. Sorry if I'm calling you out, Mrs. Irons (I actually have NO idea where she is today!). I corrected her (even though I was very shy) and my parents corrected her. She then called me Tricia for exactly one day before defaulting back to Pat. Not that I'm still bitter :). WHY does this bother me? (no answer)

Anyway, after she called, "Pat BOLSTER," I finally stood up and told Justin to follow. She asked if I hadn't heard her. I told that I'm not used to being called Pat (check my chart lady...I've been coming here for almost ten years and my preferred name is right on it...I know this because no one has ever called me Pat before!)! She didn't seem too pleased.

But at least my teeth are clean. :)

I love my boys!

IF...
Lucy would nap everyday (like she is right now...hooray!), I would be much saner, happier, calmer, you-name-it!!! All of my girls have stopped napping at 2-1/2-years-old...pretty much to the day. Lucy turns 2-1/2 this week. And, this is only her second nap of the week (it's Thursday). Last week she was napping just fine. Two and a half-year-olds NEED naps.

But, my girls (luckily my boys both napped until 3-1/2ish) decide they are big enough to stop (and they drive their mother almost insane because they are too young to sit and watch TV for an hour or two (the only TV allowed all day is during nap time) so Mommy gets ZERO break). I need a break. Not to mention the declining mood of the toddler as the day progresses!

And, yes, I have tried all kinds of solutions...but I spend my entire "break" when Teresa is sleeping trying to get Lucy down, so it's really not worth it...I'm even more stressed! If I'm not blogging much these days, you'll all know why :).



Happy Feast of the Guardian Angels! Thank you angels...please watch over us!

IF...
I was God, I don't think I would be very happy with how I respond to my children in stressful situations. In fact, I would punish me...harshly...for not being the mother who my precious children deserve.

Case in point: My husband was teaching a class on Tuesday night. So, it was just me for afternoon homework for 3 kids, dinner, and clean up (and I really lose it if there's not a little bit of order, so I ask the kids to pick up a few things...reasonable, you'd think!?!). I was getting worn down anticipating bathing six children and getting everyone to bed on time (so I could enjoy my reward...a glass of wine!).

Gianna (8) and Joseph (6-1/2) were being VERY silly. Most of the time, I love the close bond that they've always shared. Watching them together makes my heart sing. But, not on Tuesday evenings when I'm the only adult!

At 7 p.m., I asked the two of them to clean up the backyard for me (riding toys, baseball bats, etc. everywhere!) and then head upstairs for their showers. Let's just say that they were less than cooperative. And, because they had support in each other, they were extra bold and uncharacteristically rude.

I did not respond well. I do not physically hurt my children, but words can sting too. Let's leave it at that. I got their cooperation in the end. And, I did apologize and explain (for what it's worth) that I really need their help when Daddy is not home. They seemed to forgive me and everyone got to bed peacefully and on time.

I do not forgive myself as easily. And, in all honesty, who knows what long-term damage I am doing to my children!?! God help me.

There's a line in a song that makes me feel all better. It's the song, "Overwhelmed," by Big Daddy Weave. There's a link below (I think...I've never been any good at this sort of thing!!!).

The line is this: "God, I run into your arms...unashamed because of mercy."

Thank you God for your mercy and for never giving up on me. I pray for the grace that I need to be the person that I am called to be (even when someone calls me Pat, even when my toddler doesn't nap, even when my kids are disrespectful). Amen. :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiGb14tTaH4&feature=player_detailpage

IF...
You are still reading, then I thank you!!! Many blessings on your day. Guardian Angels, pray for us!