Last night I ate dinner in the bathroom. For some reason it seemed like the best solution. The older girls were washing up in the bath, and I was rocking Willow in the car seat with my foot. Yes, while eating my hamburger and lemonade.
It was one of those days. I’m sure you know them. The ones where the kids alternate between screaming at each other and cat walking on the couch. The days where messes don’t make you angry because at least they were quiet. Those times when your nose is slick with stress sweat, but you don’t have any hands to push up your glasses.
Yesterday was one of those days.
I ate my dinner, bouncing the baby, passing out tooth brushes, just waiting for one of them to say, “Mama, you can’t eat in here; we eat at the table.” Luckily for them, no such comment was made. Mama might have blown!
Although I didn’t lose it, I was definitely frustrated and short tempered, but something snapped me out of it. One of my girls looked through me and asked, “Mama, do you still love me?”
Heart crushing right?
It made me wonder what part of my body, language, or energy led her to believe I may no longer love her. I gave her my full attention and said, “Of course I still love you. Mama is just feeling a little overwhelmed right now.” Although she continued on with her activity, unphased by the depth of her question, my mind would not relinquish it.
It has encouraged me to be more discerning with my reactions, especially in anger. How we love them influences how they love themselves, and that might be the most important love of all.