10 wrongs vs. 1,000 rights

I’m a loving mother.
I’m a patient mother.
I’m a kind mother.
I’m a forgiving mother.
I’m a hypocrite.

For all the valuable insight I’ve discovered through this blog – my anger triggers, best approaches for discipline, ways to see the positive, reminders of what’s truly important – despite all of it, I’m still screwing up.

Some days I feel like an absolute hypocrite.

Am I loving when I nag, bark, and clench my jaw over something trivial?
Am I patient while reminding my son 3 times that we’ll be late if he isn’t ready in 2 minutes?
Am I kind when I tell my 8-year old how sick I am of seeing clean shirts on his floor?
Am I forgiving after seeing my toddler drop a full toilet paper roll in the toilet by accident?

When these things happen, I wonder where that patient mom from yesterday went. The one who spoke calmly and softly and achieved success thwarting a tantrum. The one who ignored the spilled juice, cleaned it up, and went back to snuggling for a movie.

Where did the better me run off to?

30 - wrong vs right

Some days I think, How can I even be writing this blog? When I still keep screwing up?

Screwing up at this parenting thing is one of my biggest fears. I fear that my aggravation will seep too deeply into my kids. That they’re absorbing more of the harshness than the kindness. That they’re witnessing more impatience than patience. And learning the wrong way to handle frustrations.

But this weekend I saw something beautiful. A reminder that I must be doing something right. That I’m not screwing up completely.

It’s right there in my boys. My proof. My reminder that…

          Even with the 10 things I do wrong, I do a 1,000 things right.

We were eating out when my older son saw a crack in his straw and wondered whether it would still work. Before any of us had time to give it any thought, my 3 year old got out of his chair and ran up to the teenager at the counter to ask for a new straw for his brother, because his was cracked. “Here you go!” he handed a new one to him.

I saw my cautious toddler acting without question, putting his brother’s need ahead of his own shyness, running to his rescue without a single hesitation. Such kindness and love wrapped up in one small act.

Later this weekend my oldest was playing with a friend in the yard. They were flying their drone, a small helicopter with sharp blades and a charged engine. His brother wanted to join them. I saw my oldest gently steer him away from the takeoff spot. “Stand back here. I’m not doing this to be mean,” I heard him say. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you hurt.”

I heard the concern, not only for his brother’s safety, but also for potentially hurt feelings. Even more impressive to me was how intuitive he was at addressing those feelings even before it became a problem. Yet another act of kindness, patience, and love.

Proof that I must be doing something right.

Because I AM loving. I tell them every day. 10 times a day. With warm meals, clean sheets, and folded clothes. With hugs, kisses, and whispers in their ears. I look in their eyes and confess it aloud. I tell them at bedtime, before school, and for no reason at all.

I AM patient. Like with my toddler’s exuberance over his new Paw Patrol pajamas, which I’ve washed three nights in a row now. 🙂

I AM kind. I dry tears. I blow on scrapes and kiss bruises. I listen to their fears and hold them after a nightmare. I lift them up with encouragement. I praise their accomplishments.

I AM forgiving. The carpet stains prove that, right? It has no value whatsoever to me compared to my children. So I just keep cleaning it. Until I save enough money to finally throw it out!

I’m hoping that through my confession to continuously messing up…you won’t feel so alone.

We’re all human. We screw up. We don’t recognize the 1,000 rights because we’re so focused on the messes we make.

But no matter how many times I fail, I’m going to try again. Every day is a new day. Every hour is a chance to start over. Even every minute can be handled differently.


     Though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong,
for the Lord upholds his hand.
 
                                       Psalm 37:24


In the middle of our continued efforts – and especially on the days we struggle – this reminder needs to be heard. By all of us.

Say it out loud. Write it on a post-it. Tell yourself this instead of focusing on the messes you make.

          You do a 1,000 things right. Every. Single. Day.

Now, watch those kids of yours and see the proof in them. It’s there. I guarantee it.

Love is NOT normal

“Can I tell you something?” my Mom asked last week. Uh oh.

  • [Me: Is it good or bad?]
  • [Her: Good.]
  • [Me: Okay.] Not that I would have stopped her, but I never want to hear bad things, especially from my Mom.
  • [Her: You’ve changed.]
  • [Me: What do you mean?]
  • [Her: Well, I don’t know if it’s from writing your blog, but you’re different.]
  • [Me: In what way?]
  • [Her: You’re…more lighthearted.]

YES!

That was wonderful to hear. That a difference was actually noticeable. Remember, I often describe myself as pretty serious. Well, serious is the opposite of lighthearted, so I’m moving in the right direction, people. Doing my happy dance. 🙂

I’m about to reach six months since starting this blog. I took some time to analyze what it’s all about and why I’m doing it. As a result, I came up with Butterfly Heart Blog’s mission statement.

Butterfly Heart MISSION image

What do you think? Before you answer – and if you’re new to this site – let me explain a bit.

I began this because too often I was losing my patience and raising my voice with the kids. I had become the loudest voice in our home. With two boys who make car engine noises all day (or any noise, really), that was saying something. This left me feeling like a bad mom. I knew I wasn’t a bad mom, but I also knew I could be better. I was ready for a change.

By analyzing myself, I saw some bad habits, personality traits that could be adjusted, and expectations that needed to change. Some small things were not even related to a loud voice, but when improved, they made a difference. I talked to other moms. Yelling happened in their homes, too. And frustration, tempers, regrets. One mom described it as, “Oh, you mean when scary mom shows up.” I was met with knowing smiles and nodding heads. So chalk that up to – I’m normal.

And so are you. I hope other parents who read what I share will recognize their own areas for improvement, and start a change. Or maybe they’ll just empathize with me, and feel better about themselves. That’s good, too. Either way, we’re all going to fail now and then. It’s the continued move forward that will prevent us from falling backward. Once in a while, we may need an extra hand at our backs. Belonging to this parenting circle, we can all support each other with understanding and shared experiences.

You have to admit, there are times when you wonder if your kids are normal. Some days they resemble those little creatures from the Gremlins movie. Sweet and cuddly one second, then destroying your kitchen (or your living room pillows) and growling at you the next. Just know that every parent has been given the gift of tantrums, rolled eyes, and back-talk. Our children are still learning to be the person God made them to be. Aren’t we all? So they’re just as normal as we are.

Despite these actions and reactions being normal, we can turn them into the exception. We can change. When I became a mom, I experienced a deeper love than ever before. Our love for our kids is a strong force to be reckoned with. It is through love that we correct, bless, pray for, have compassion toward, and lead our children to Jesus. God provides the love we need to be faithful parents. I truly believe with His guidance and grace, we can do miraculous things. We can treat our kids like the blessings He gave us.

The well-known verse 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 defines love. It starts with, “Love is patient, love is kind.” Is it any wonder that patient is the first in line?

Parenting with patience is a BIG part of love. But let’s not forget to have patience and love for ourselves, too.

The Bishop of Geneva and honored saint, Francis de Sales, was quoted,

“Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in
considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them – every day begin the task anew.”

Remember, we’re SO normal. But with love, we can be miraculous. In the middle of any situation, loving our kids is never a wrong choice. In fact, the love our kids give us in return is proof of the miraculous power of love. Despite our failures, they love us just the same.

What do you think? Will you join me with this mission?

Here’s to a new day…and deserving that love!

Spills Schmills!

Do you know that sound of running water…coming from a room that should not have such a sound?

Like my living room.

My little one spilled his drink. As soon as I heard that sound, I knew what happened. And was instantly irritated at the mess waiting for me. I grunted and clenched my teeth as I sopped up the liquid from my wood shelf and the carpet, letting slip out a frustrated “Gosh, darnit!”

Now I know those words could have been worse, but the anger was still recognized by my son.

He sweetly said, “I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t mean to spill.”

I was silent, trying not to say anything regretful. So he repeated himself. “I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t mean to spill.”

And it hit me. Of course he didn’t mean to spill. They never mean to spill.

22 - spills

Spill is synonymous with accident. In fact, Mirriam-Webster defines spill as “to cause or allow (something) to fall, flow, or run over the edge of a container usually in an accidental way.” If it wasn’t accidental, it would be pouring. Luckily, that doesn’t happen in our house. 🙂

Why can’t I just react with, “That’s okay. We can clean it up.” Mistakes deserve instant forgiveness. After looking at his sweet face, I did answer him with, “It’s okay. I’m glad it was water.”

Now, get this. Later, I heard tears from the kitchen. Our older son had spilled his drink – a sticky juice all over the kitchen table.

Dad was upset, grumbling about slowing down, that he just told him to watch his glass, and I’m pretty sure I heard a “Gosh darnit, why did you spill?” in there. Maybe that’s where I get it… 🙂

And my sensitive, probably overtired, big boy got upset.

You know what I did? I got upset with my husband. “You can’t yell at him for spilling his drink!” I said. “He doesn’t do it on purpose – it’s an accident!”

I’m not proud. Here I was taking it out on my husband. My own guilt from just an hour earlier.

Now here’s the clincher. Things always come in threes.

I’ve been redoing a desk. I set out to stain the drawers. That very night, when I opened my can of gel stain (think of the consistency of pudding), I discovered the top layer turned to a hard thin shell (it will do that if it dries out too much). So I poked through and attempted to carefully dig it out.

Instead of breaking into pieces, it spurted out of the can. One glob on my white kitchen countertop, another on the cream-colored tile floor. Yes, that’s right. Dark mahogany-colored wood stain. Can you gasp with me?

I’m not sure I could have caused a worse spill. Well, maybe breaking a gallon-sized glass container into a zillion pieces – which I did about 3 weeks ago. See, everyone spills, drops, breaks things. God has a way of reminding us.

I was able to remove the stain. Thank goodness for one of my favorite products, Goo Gone. Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser still tops my list, though.

Spills can be cleaned up and forgotten. But anger and frustration have a way of leaving behind residue.

As I was silently and quickly cleaning up, I realized I didn’t want someone pointing out my mistake. Nor did I need anyone else’s words of frustration. I did not treat my children the way I would want to be treated. Normally, that golden rule is strong with me. But I needed the reminder. A reminder to forgive instantly.

My husband came to help without saying a word either. I think we both learned our lesson.


     Be kind and compassionate to one another,
forgiving each other,
just as in Christ, God forgave you.
 
                                       Ephesians 4:32


My prayer that night went something like this.

“Dear God, please help me care less about spills, broken things, and accidents. Remind me to look into my children’s eyes before reacting or opening my mouth. Help me to see the guilt and remorse in their sweet faces. Invite forgiveness and love from my lips so that guilt can be lifted from their shoulders. And leave no room in my heart for anger. Amen.”

Not My Pillows!

Nothing stays in its place in this home.

For someone who enjoys begs to stay somewhat organized, this can drive me batty.

Cars are one example. We have about 500 matchbox cars. I’m not exaggerating. I’d count them for you, but that would mean I’d have to find them all. And I’m not into self-punishment.

Pillows are another. The decorative pillows for my couch are never ON my couch. They’re on the floor, across the room, or wedged between the wall and the circular bookcase.

I brought home two new pillows not long ago, only to find my toddler smashing them with his bare toes as he navigated the lava pit in our living room. Shame on me for torturing new pillows. I’m sure they much preferred the peaceful store shelf.

21 - pillows

Sometimes I have to bite my tongue – pretty hard – not to say something. Other times – like the day my new pillows were on the floor within a half hour of placing them – I blow my top like the volcano that created that lava pit. And feel guilty two seconds later.

Picking up is a never-ending-I-just-put-that-away-five-minutes-ago headache.

I call a time-out when I’ve lost all ability to ignore the mess. Other than the few times they recognize the complete desperation in my eyes, pleas for my sanity go nowhere. I have to speak their language. Appeal to their emotions. Use what makes them tick.

I make it a game.

A simple one is the How fast are you? game. This works for small messes that can be picked up easily. In fact, the best use I’ve found for this is putting away clean laundry.

I sort. I fold. I hand each boy a set of socks. We see who can put away faster. Not only do they have to be fast, they have to pay attention. Whose socks did I give them? Which room are they going to? And which drawer do they belong in? Each one is high-fived upon his return and given another set of socks.

My most popular idea has been the Find it, Fix it! game. We must go around the room looking for things out of place. I give them the role of a stranger coming into our home for the first time. What would stand out as something that’s not supposed to be there? Or takes away from the niceness of our house?

We call them out as we find them. But the key is we have to fix it to count it.

  • “I’m throwing away a granola bar I found under the couch.” Okay, gross.
  • “I found a car in between the couch cushions. It’s going in the car bucket.” One of 6 car buckets, I assure you.
  • “I see food (or something) dripped down the front of the fridge. I’m cleaning it off with Windex.” That’s me!

We tally the items we find and fix in 20 minutes by setting the microwave timer. If we reach 50 together, we all go to the park or go get ice cream. I would actually recommend a higher goal because, in our house, reaching 50 took only about 10 minutes. 🙂

But this really worked! I have to test it again, and I will, but at the very least, it was another successful pick-up where I didn’t lose my mind…or raise my voice.

Now, you may be thinking, cleaning is a part of life. They should be able to fulfill that task without making a game out of it. Of course. There are plenty of times I simply request it and they do it. But if making it fun at times can help along the way, I still think the satisfaction of a job well done afterward will settle in their minds, too. And as they grow older and wiser, they’ll remember that subtle lesson. Hopefully.

If not, I’m simply raising two piglets. And I love them.

Do you have chores turned into games at your house? Please share if you do.

Ready…set…go!


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I Need My Step Stool!

I wish my toddler would stop growing.

I was watching him tonight pull his step stool to the sink so he could brush his teeth. He has to stretch his toes to reach the faucet.

And I thought to myself, Please don’t get any bigger. He’s at this sweet stage right now, where his pudgy little body still fits on my hip, his hand can wrap around my one finger, and his eyes light up when he sees something new. I’m not ready for him to grow up more.

But I am ready for this journey of mine to…GET A MOVE ON!

19 - step stool

This blog started with my journey to a yell-free home. I hated the loud voice that kept showing up in frustration, and felt I had to change. Writing about it has been my method of accountability and means for improvement.

Like my toddler, I’ve been using steps along the way to help reach my goal. Recognizing my triggers and avoiding them. Using new tricks to keep the boys from arguing. Planning fun things to prevent their boredom.

I reach for my goal daily, but there are times it feels like I haven’t gotten very far. Once in a while, the step stool gets kicked out from beneath me.

Makes me wonder if this goal is even possible. Worthy? Yes! But is it possible?

As it says in the book of Matthew, “With God, all things are possible.”

Here I am stretching myself as tall as I can to be the super-patient, never-failing, wise mom I have in my head…wishing she’d show up already…and I’ve been forgetting that I need to rely on God to get me there, not my step stools.

And it won’t happen overnight. It will likely take longer than I wish.


     But do not forget this one thing,
dear friends: With the Lord a day
is like a thousand years, and a
thousand years are like a day.
 
                                       2 Peter 3:8


His time is not the same as mine. But just like my toddler will reach new heights when the time is right, I’ll get there when it’s time. Because He knows when that is, and He will help get me there.

Dear God, I promise to use YOU as my step stool…if you promise to get me there in fewer than a thousand years. Deal?

No deals, just faith! 🙂

The One Four One

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charmandgrithome.wordpress.com/

Furniture makeovers, vintage treasures, gathering in my "soul shed", and teaching everyday women to DIY.