Yesterday was a pretty high-drama day. What day around here isn't, really? The tone of the whole day is typically based on what time of the morning I had to get up and how I feel about that. Yesterday I felt crummy. Hence--crummy mom. This is so pathetic I'm embarrassed to even write it, but I will, because it helps to write it down to remind myself.
GraceAnne and I were pretty much at each other's throats all day. She kept being a total turd to me, her sister and just in general. Her attitude was crappy, (directly related to my own??), and she was sassy as all get-out. I kept having to snap at her because she wouldn't listen to anything. When Allan got home, he had to discipline her a ton, too. It got to the point last night that I told her not to turn Violet's swing on 3x. I told her this because Allan had JUST gotten Vi calmed down after 30 minutes of screaming and she was content to sit in the swing without moving. So GraceAnne looks at me defiantly, turns the swing on the highest setting and promptly covers her butt with two hands because she KNOWS what is coming. So I swatted her anyway. Over her hands. Then I turn the swing off and yell at her that "what is REALLY messed up is that you KNEW what was coming, which says to me that you HEARD what I told you and you KNEW it was wrong!" She covers her ears and yells at me, "THAT HURTS MY EARS!" At which point daddy swoops in, picks her up and takes her to the stairs so she can go to her room. Allan and I were both pretty jarred by this encounter, not to mention Miss GraceAnne. To be fair, this doesn't happen often, but it still happens way too often for my comfort. And let's be honest--I can see it in my daughter's face and hear it in her tone--it won't be long, (if we continue on this path), before she hates us both. And it doesn't work. *sigh*
SO...last night I was sleeping and I had a dream. **GraceAnne had done something wrong that she knew she wasn't supposed to do and I yelled at her and spanked her butt. For some reason I couldn't spank her, it was as if I couldn't get enough force behind my arm to make an impression. I was only tapping her lightly at best. So I was desperately trying to spank her anywhere, her legs, her arms, etc. I took her into the bedroom where Allan was and said, "you spank her." He tried and the same thing happened. We were both unsure of what to do.** Then I woke up to Violet wanting some food. So I told God, "if you want me to get something out of that dream, you had better tell me, because I'm pretty stupid with exhaustion right now." So He said, "the yelling isn't working. the spanking isn't working." I said "I know...I'm sorry." He said, "don't be sorry, just don't do it." (For anyone who doesn't know...this is exactly what I say to my daughter ALL THE TIME because she uses "I'm sorry" to gloss things over. It drives me nuts. So this in itself was pretty convicting!) So I got quiet and thought about that for a while. Then He said, "If you were really walking with me, you wouldn't be constantly behaving this way." And He's right. Something has got to change. That something is me. She's 4-years-old for pete's sake and she doesn't know how to change the situation. Only I do or can.
For anyone who thinks I'm nuts for talking to God, (or I guess the real nutty part would be Him talking back to me), I'm sorry you think that. You can call it my conscience or a dream or whatever you want, but I know in my heart it's God. He didn't used to talk to me and I used to challenge Him to do so. When He wouldn't I would say, "HA! That proves there is no God." But now I know that He doesn't talk to people who really don't want Him to talk to them, so I got smarter about it, asked Him into my life and now we have conversations once in a while. I probably should converse with Him more. He makes me a better person.
I have some super cute pictures of Gracie on Allan's scooter that I will post later. For now I'm going to try to enjoy this Saturday morning with my family. Love and miss you all!