We had band/choir concerts last night. Anna invited her two closest friends to come get ready at our house and I invited their (small) families over for dinner before the concert.
So fun. As I was attempting to finish cleaning up this morning, I was distracted looking for Christmas Cookie recipes... I was invited to a neighborhood cookie exchange tomorrow night.
The kids were quiet upstairs and I found them in my make-up drawer.
I cajoled them into clothes while mentally compiling a shopping list-- Christmas sugar cookies for Ellie and Leah, secret Santa for Jakob and Anna, 16 small gift things for Lily's class, a white v-neck shirt and 8 inch tortillas for Jakob, Sierra Mist for Anna, nothing for Drew-- which means his teachers will tell us things to bring at the last minute. Stamps for Christmas cards I still hope to mail. Deodorant stocking stuffers, cute wrapping paper, something cute to hold our neighbor gifts.
I wrestled Ben and raced Eve into coats, brushed hair, boots (oops, forgot teeth). Stuffed my purse with clementine oranges and fruit snacks (forgot a diaper and wipes).
I noticed a car seat in the garage as we headed to the car. Ben played in the snow while I carried his car seat to buckle it into the van. I put Eve in her car seat and told her to buckle up while I headed to get Ben, who was now headed down the driveway towards the street.
My neighbor hired a landscaper to fix some big tire tracks a delivery truck made in our front yard. The landscaper moved to block Ben from the road. I was chasing Ben while Eve got out of the van and ran towards me, slipping in the ice. She hit her mouth (not her chin thank goodness!!) and was bleeding. Ahhhh!!! I turned from Ben, scooped Eve up and put her back into the van. Ran to grab Ben and smiled at the kind landscaper, thanking him profusely.
I was about to melt into a puddle of tears and was mentally leaving a not-too-kind message on my husband's phone blaming him for not putting Ben's car seat back into the van. I had sternly told Eve "You need to listen. You are going to have to get stitches AGAIN." I was not feeling particularly angelic when, the landscaper said, "Ma'am, you have the patience of an angel."
My eyes are still filled with tears as I type this. My kids are buckled into their seats. My To Do list is prolific, and Christmas music is filling the car.
"I try!" I told the landscaper, my bustling toddlers, myself, and my God.
Patience of an angel is what God is creating in me as I learn to mother many. It is a skill that is hard to measure but rivals the self discipline required to win an Olympic gold.
Today, I'm thankful for a kind landscaper.
Life is good.
Tis the season to Be Merry!!