Thursday, April 7, 2011

Bigger Picture Moment: Don't feed the bears {spaghetti}

After a too-late, pre-bedtime discussion about business finances that left my mind spinning and an entire night of wrestling a nursing, teething toddler, nothing about Wednesday morning seemed appealing except for maybe the prospect of crawling back under the covers to sleep away the general unwell and unrested feeling.

No such luck.

E squirmed out of bed at 6:25 a.m., and I reluctantly followed him, resolving in my mind to start the day in prayer and in the Word.

And that helped until the unwell and unrested feeling began creeping its way back into my tired body and even more tired mind.

Simply, when I've not slept well for a few nights, my mind becomes mush. And then my body follows close behind.

I can't seem to handle excessive noise escaping from the drum set and cymbals or constant questions tumbling from 3-year-old lips or over-tired whining escaping the mouth of my toddler and oh-my-gosh-can-mommy-just-have-FIVE-Minutes-of-SIlencePLEASE!?

We escaped from the grocery story relatively unscathed {read: I prayed and begged God for a huge burst of energy simply to get me through the shopping endeavor so we didn't have to eat pickles for lunch and dinner}.

But by the time we were returning home, I found myself barreling into an enormous afternoon crash and burn alongside my melting-down toddler.

I know, thanks to truthful words from friends, that having a hard day or having a bad day as a stay-at-home mom doesn't mean I DON'T love my life or kids; I know that it doesn't mean I have some kind of fatal character flaw, so I took refuge such a realization that this day, too, would pass. Sleep would come later tonight {hopefully} and tomorrow would be a new {less-hormonal, less-exhausted} day.

And those simple truths gave me hope for tomorrow, yes, but in that meantime, I knew I needed to get through the day without totally entering into epic mommy fail after mommy fail of yelling at the boys and becoming frustrated and battling gigantic battle after gigantic battle of tested patience.

In a rush to get lunch on the table so E could take a much-needed nap and I could take a much-needed break, I did something a Type A personality who is feeling unrested, hormonal and unwell should never do:

day 211

I fed the bears spaghetti for lunch.

Feed them apples or grapes or turkey slices, but for the love of your SANITY, woman, make a mental note NOT to feed them bright-orange-red coated noodles while in such a state of sleep-deprived disarray.

Because that is just asking for trouble.

Everyone has bad days, yes, and maybe there's not much that can be done to avoid some.

But perhaps steering clear of the things I know will send me over the edge -- red-sauce-coated toddlers who fling said red sauce onto every square inch of the dining room -- on those bad days should be a high priority, just two steps below praying for Divine intervention and taking a chat break with a lovely friend and one above bathing myself in caffeinated tea.

{Also, yes, I would have a rotten day after posting about how swimmingly our weeks have been going since engaging in our Sabbath Experiment, which goes to show that while taking a day of rest can really enhance life, it's not a cure-all for everything. :) }

Simple BPM

Every Thursday, we share the harvest of intentionally living by capturing a glimpse of the bigger picture through a simple moment{s}.

Grab a button {code over on the right-hand side}, link at Sarah's and then go forth and encourage others on this journey in intentional living.

Live. Capture. Share. Encourage.

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