After the flu………the one that hospitalized your middle child with a semi-rare condition where the flu attacks the muscle and he/she is unable to walk. After returning home from the hospital, where you hoped for rest for your flu ridden body but found none, all three children had lost their minds. They hadn’t been out of the house in a week. Their schedule had been completely disrupted. Their response was nothing short of meniacal. As a coping mechanism—because you still hadn’t recovered from the flu—- was to craft, to give them your full attention in the form of Advent crafts. You see, I love Easter and Advent. It is so full of love and hope, I can hardly contain the joy it brings. So, I loaded my sick self up in search of craft materials.
Three stores later……I returned home ready to spend quality time with the kids. We were going to paint and make stained glass crosses for the windows. My husband left to go to work because he had things to do since me and #2 had been in the hospital and he was tied to the others. We began to work. It went mildly smooth for the first three or so minutes. As we moved into the stained glass cross, I had to send #2 limping into his room because he was hitting the others. That left me and #1 and the baby. Number one was completely uninterested in my plot. None of the kids were genuinely interested, really. Wasn’t this what they needed?! Mommy time?!
He got up from the table and went to play with his drone mid-craft. Something happened inside my brain. Something snapped. I like to blame the virus that was running crazy in my body. I walked over, grabbed the drone, opened the front door, and threw it into the front yard. I was obviously trying to make a statement.
However, I immediately heard a zipping noise outside and the drone took off. It flew far away. When I tossed it into the front yard in a monumental gesture, the remote landed face down and sent the brand new drone sailing. I ran outside (while my son screamed in emotional distress) and grabbed the remote. It was too late. I maneuvered the controls and could hear the drone, but had no way of knowing where it was. All that was left was the faint untraceable buzz and the lonely remote.
Once I calmed down, and my husband returned home, I searched the neighborhood for the drone. It was never to be found. I eventually finished the stained glass crosses alone.
I’m certain that when my children remember their childhoods, these moments will be what they remember- the moments when I cracked. Ironically, Easter represents the ultimate hope and faith and love we receive in Christ, which is why I love it so much. But that day, all of my humanness showed. Every ounce of my inability as a mother. I lacked the grace to finish the craft with unwilling kids. I wanted so badly to be that mom who had well-mannered children learning about Christ in a beautiful way. But I wasn’t. I’m just me. And my children……..are my children. And hopefully, our good times will be peppered into their memories of me.
❤️ Shalom
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