Please please God give me the patience of a saint! Today is one of my normal days with Jason but the furnace isn't running. My
I run around the house listening to Jason complaining because like normal I’m getting Faith ready.
Jason: “Mommy, I don’t want to watch this show!”
Me: “Jason, mommy put your cartoons on already.”
Jason: “But Mommy I don’t like this cartoon.”
Me: “I am getting Faith ready. I can’t help you right now.” Brain thinking just gives me time to get her on the bus and you can drive me insane.
Jason: “BUT MOMMY I DON”T WANT TO WATCH THIS SHOW!” (Yes he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Oh boy do I know what today is going to be like.)
I went back to trying to get Faith’s mop into a pony tail.
Faith: “Ow that hurts”
Me: “Let me cut your hair off please.”
Faith: “No mommy I want my hair to grow.”
Me: “But you can’t take care of it. It looks bad when it’s not put up.”
Faith: “Mom, I WANT MY HAIR LONG.”
Me: sigh
Walk Faith to the new bus stop. Our bus stop which simply translated means I freeze while she waits for the bus to come and then she runs down the street. I’m freezing. It’s not that cold so why am I freezing? Because I put on my husband’s robe which I now know has holes in the seat. There is simply nothing like having air rush up your butt.
I walk back into the house to find Jason tearing his sister’s diary up. Yes tearing. She’s going to kill him if I don’t today. I can tell.
Me: “Jason, you are not supposed to have Faith’s stuff.”
Jason: “Why not I don’t have one of these?”
Me: “Cuz you aren’t.”
Jason: “Well, Patsy would have let me have one.”
Ouchie! He used that word on me. Patsy is Jason’s former short term foster care mother. And when ever he is mad at me or isn’t getting his way, he uses that woman’s name. He so knows as well when he does it that it drives me insane.
I went downstairs in the laundry room thinking that it was safer for me there. YES I thought that doing laundry would make me peaceful lol. Jason follows me downstairs.
Jason: “Mommy, I don’t want to watch that show.”
Me: “I’m doing laundry.”
Jason: “Mommy, change the channel.”
Me: “Stop ordering me around you aren’t my boss.”
Jason: “Yes I am.”
Me: “Sit on that box right there and be quiet. Time out young man.”
I walk out of the laundry room into my bedroom. And then it starts.
Jason: “MOMMY YOU FORGOT ME.” Over and over and over he says it.
God, again, please give me patience. If Monday starts like this, heaven help me for the rest of it.
10 comments:
Oh my. You've told the story so well. I'm laughing with you, not at you. I'm praying for a miraculously peaceful remainder of the day. Be blessed, my friend!
Oh how I know how thos emonring can go...and even without a kiss! Hang in there. I say it's 5 o'clock somewhere, and you could use a strong one! lol
I forgot what I was going to say. I was distracted by the hot picture of Darryl Whorley in your MP3 clips box. Yahoo.
Oh, that's right. Hang in there! You are not alone in the madness! Also, I recently switched to a soft bristle brush for my daughter. Working wonders!!! No more tears in the morning. Sending you (((hugs))) for the rest of the week!!
Oh yes, I am asking god to send you patience! I am so sorry for the things that he has said. So when my daughter was young I gave her the Dorothy Hammel cut, remember that. She would not brush her hair and would not let me touch it so it was short!
Praying for your comfort.
I hope your day improved. Mine actually sounded rather similar in the patience and frustration part. Add into that mix a migraine, and it's a wonder I'm still up. On the bright side, my laundry is completely done!
((hugs!!))
Deborah
I found when I pray for patience, I get these kinds of days...because after all how do we gain patience? By having it tested all the time and we build up a tolerance. ;-)
awwww...i hope the rest of your week gets better. hang in there! ;)
Tomorrow HAS to be better!
That sounds like a stressful day. Laundry = peace & relaxation, lol... that's when you know it's bad.
Oh honey! I have been there. I'm hoping the rest of your week was better.
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