anger and 40+ hormones

A routine day passed.  Peter was calm, school smooth.  The girls played together and I managed to sweep and mop two rooms.  I prepared homemade chicken noodle soup with cornbread for dinner, which everyone eats and enjoys, no fuss.

Three goldfinches came to the feeder, surprises came in the mail from our sweet penpals, a nice e-mail exchange occurred between me and my friend in Wyoming, who I mentioned needs prayer for finances.  Her family does ministry to the poor and needy in a trailer park.

The day flowed.  Nothing distressing.

Then it happened.

The girls were in the bath.  Miss Beth kept scooting around as I washed and rinsed her hair.  I positioned her again, in front of me, after telling her to stay still.  Intent on getting a bath toy or letter from the other end of the tub, she ignored me.

Shocking anger spewed.  Abruptly pushing all the toys to her side, I yelled, "Here!  You want these?  Take them!  Just stay still so I can rinse your hair!"

Mary looked up at me, surprised and sad.  "I guess we're not having a good day."

I hadn't yelled in quite awhile.  Bible reading and prayer, sudden and planned, cured me--or so it seemed.

I stepped away and just watched the girls after that.  Tears threatened.

Where had that anger come from?  It hadn't been a hard day, other than the rain and the closed-up feeling we all have.

Again, while I put cream on the girls after their bath, Miss Beth scooted to the head of the king bed, smiling mischievously, before I'd finished.  Normal two-year-old behaviour.  She isn't a difficult child.

And yet, my anger sparked.  I pulled her back down abruptly, yelling that she needed to obey.

Mary: "When will we have a good day?"

Momma:  "Mary, I'm sorry. We haven't had a bad day.  I guess Mommy is just tired.  It would be nice if everyone listened and things went smoothly. Thank you for listening to Mommy."

Mary:  "I wish Beth would listen."

Momma:  "She's still little.  Most of the time she listens well.  Soon she'll listen as well as you."

We often sing songs during dressing time, distracting them from such childish behaviour.  Tonight, I didn't remember.  I was reeling from the tub-side anger, moments before.

Lights out, Beth nursing peacefully beside me, I caress her hair, her cheeks, tell her how much Mommy loves her.  I pray that God will apply mercy and grace, helping the girls forgive me and not dwell on it--especially Mary, my sensitive one.

The moments before bed should be special.  Their last thoughts should be of fun songs, sweet prayers, and Momma's love, keeping them safe.

I blew it.

When I went back to Mary's room to apologize again for my anger, and to cuddle with her, she was already asleep.

Please God, give her a peaceful sleep.  May she feel love, not disdain, for her angry Momma.

House quiet, husband away till 1:00 AM, I research perimenopause and mood swings. Am I a victim now, even though my cycles are like clockwork?  Is this just normal PMS, but worsening because of my age?  I'd never felt such a sudden flash of anger.

One minute, I'm joyfully singing campfire songs during bathtime, and the next, I snap--shove toys at my two-year-old.

This isn't who I want to be, God!

I'd made such progress, becoming a measure more gentle and quiet, these past weeks, months.

I read about omega oil, flaxseed, calcium, exercise, sleep, no caffeine (which my Excedrin has, but I don't drink tea or coffee).

Youth is gone.  Is that it?  Now I have to work at feeling good?

I've always needed less sleep than the average person--five or six hours is fine, especially if uninterrupted.  My dad is the same.

Either I take care of myself consciously now, or my kids suffer?

And of course, I'll need more prayer, more Bible, more Jesus songs.  More of His grace.

We never arrive.  Have you noticed?  Something always send us running back to Him.

Help me Lord, I can't do this!


Matthew 11:28-30 (source here) 

²⁸Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ²⁹Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. ³⁰For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

John 14:27  ²⁷Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Psalm 4:8   I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.

Saturday's grace - dancing

Momma and Beth, dancing to Jesus music

Miss Beth saw me turn up a Christian song on the radio.  That was her cue! When Momma turns up the radio, it's time to dance!

Sure enough, Beth's face lit up.  She ran over and asked me to dance with her.

As we danced, I knew.  This is God's grace for me, for this hour.  Oh, it was so lovely!

Peter was a nervous, hyper handful all day, following me around talking incessantly about birds, detailing all the things he wants to buy to attract more birds.  He gets a lot of expensive ideas from bird books!  He's taken to praying several times a day, in a pleading voice, that Daddy gets a better job, so we can buy more bird paraphernalia.  Poor Daddy!  Sure, we all want a better job, but this whole bird thing makes husband feel more pressured than ever.

I don't have a good camera for distance shots; sorry about the blurriness.  We've been getting a lot of red-winged blackbirds lately, and lots of different woodpeckers.  We all enjoy the view!

Peter put seed all over the yard, hoping to attract more friends.  It worked!

ADHD children hover around you most of the day.  It's like having a perpetual shadow, except when they get engrossed in something.  I loved it when Peter read for a few hours a day, but since encountering the OCD difficulties with repeating words and phrases, he's never gone back to devouring books.  I remember how he used to say, "Mommy, I just love to read!"

I wonder if I'll ever hear that again?  I thought we had beat this, but it's only when he reads Scripture that the repeating goes away.  I'm still praying and trusting, but this saddens me--not the Scripture part, of course.  That's a wonderful blessing.

I love Peter's enthusiasm for life science, but if he had his way, I'd never spend a moment with my other children.  His lack of impulse control renders him selfish, unfortunately.

God did apply some grace to this problem, earlier this week.  I don't remember why, but Mary followed Peter around for an hour.  Finally, exasperated, he said to me, "Is this how it feels to be followed all day?"

That made me smile.  He's really a sweet boy!  I just hope he finds a long-suffering, sweet wife!  May it be so, Lord!

So far he hasn't found the impulse control to stop following me, but at least he can relate to the fatigue I feel.

What in the world is this?

Well, so many people stare at me funny when I have my kids with me, that I decided to take a picture of myself in different lights, to see how badly I'm ageing.  This is bathroom lighting.  The acne scars make it far worse; they look like wrinkles. Being tired doesn't help either.

Lord, may my own daughters not get acne, please?  It's an emotionally painful condition, as some of you may know.

This is living-room lighting, with light coming from the window.

 Can you imagine this face yelling at you, because after being asked to dress three times, you've still not put on your pajamas?  (That would be Paul, my absent-minded professor.)

Ugh!  I'll never yell again. How scary!

The solution to my homeliness woes is to smile.  I need to smile most of the time.  

What my face can't provide, my spirit can.  

Children love smiley moms--even 45-year-old ones.