A Confession

"How's Carson doing?"

My most common responses of late: such a pill ... wit's end ... obstinate ... frustrated ... fire station (as in leave him there)

Yes, my son has reached his "terrible 1 and a halfs" and being primary care provider to this guy has been downright exhausting. True there are good days and bad days, but by the end of the bad days, I can hardly stand up.

My nearest and dearest have only heard lately of these predicaments I face, and have truly responded w/ grace and encouragement. However, they fail to realize I'm looking for a solution -- not endurance.

So I'm driving the other day complaining to myself ... and God (because I believe He's listening) ... but mostly to myself. Like my close friends, I've found that God generally encourages me in the "endurance" area, and I've already tried to explain that I'm a quick-fix kind of gal.

So with this hardened heart, a Word still breaks through and I'm reminded "to not be surprised by the trials you face as though something strange were happening to you." (1 Peter 4:12). I'm not trying to take anything out of context and realize this message was originally written to those who are suffering for the sake of Christ and I'm merely subject to the wrath of a toddler. However, (and here's my point) I guess I've realized this week to not freak out when being a mom gets hard. This isn't strange, and it shouldn't surprise me. And I suppose that if I will endure, and stop threatening to take him to Kyle Field and let him work with Daddy for the day, then there might be a little refining in it for me.

I also have to extend my deepest gratitude toward the women in my life who listen to me rant and don't roll their eyes as I dramatize my most recent problems. In fact, Pam, Donna, and Barbara, Lisa, Debbie, Mommy -- you've been so faithful to me, I must name you! Oh and I'd be remiss to not mention my husband who doesn't benefit from any efforts on my part to hide my frustration or even exercise civility on those previously mentioned bad days.