So I’m a slow learner.
I know that attitude changes everything. I know that put-on anger in the interest of discipline leads smoothly to real anger, and real anger to helpless rage, and that starting a cycle leads to looking at all of life in the negative.
And yet here I am again.
On the highway home from choir practice last night, with the remnants of Alex sulking, Nicholas dirty (again, despite plentiful opportunities on the toilet) and Julianna unbuckling Alex’s seatbelt just to be a stinker, I gritted my teeth and said to Christian, “It’s a good thing I’m already pregnant, because otherwise I might just say the heck with the whole thing.”
“Speaking of negativity,” Christian said sternly.
Yeah, fine. But Julianna tore up two scrapbook pages yesterday. Two of my best, mind you. And when Christian called at noon the day before, the phone line opened to the dulcet tones of two children screaming….and screaming…and screaming. (I think it was because we’d come inside for lunch instead of playing outside. I don’t exactly remember now, it’s all running together.) Christian laughed. “Great, go ahead,” I said furiously. “While I’m the one that has to deal with it.”
I’m in need of yet another fresh start, people. It’s been coming on for a while, and I knew it. I kept trying to ward it off, nudge the inertia just a degree or two to the left. But here I am. If you’ve got a few spare prayers, toss them my way, will you? Because it’s time to go get the kids up, the Morning After Choir Practice, and I really want today to be a fresh start.