On those “I Can’t Even” Days

Yesterday was a total “I can’t even” day. Now, the words in that form never came out of my mouth, but by the end of dinner with Weston, Fitz, Weston’s mom and sister, and our niece Avery, I definitely said, “I’m done”.

Fitz has started in on that super clingy stage. Yesterday and the day before we had to get out of the duplex for our landlord to show it. Which means I needed to make it at least somewhat presentable. Between Fitz destroying everything behind me as I cleaned and him wanting to be held while I cleaned, it was tough to say the least. And it ended with me sighing and saying, “oh well. Good enough”. And of course we’re trying to move. So I’m trying to pack boxes one handed while I hold a screaming toddler. Or trying to pack things that he wants to take out the moment they go back into the box. And trying to carry boxes over a crying child who is standing in our narrow hallway to the car.

Yesterday we were out of the house from 10-7p. You moms feel me when I say, sheesh. We even have another house to go to, which we did while I tried to get him to nap. He took a 20 minute nap. My introverted self needs more than that amount of down time to take on the second half of the day.

We met up with Weston’s mom and sister, and our niece at the zoo for the afternoon which was so great. I truly love them and hanging out with them. But I didn’t get my recharge time and then I had to be “on” for the next 6 hours. And then Fitz fought getting back into his stroller for the first time ever. Usually it’s just the car seat… almost every time.

Then Fitz had a blow out at dinner where he screamed the entire time I changed his diaper in the trunk of the car. And it took a million wipes and he got up multiple times. He had poop in his mouth, on his hands, on his legs, on his back, and in his hair. I smelled like poop. This obviously could’ve been worse had he then peed everywhere. So I’ll count that as a grace of God.

But on days like that I am thankful that God reminds me to stop and pray at all first off. And I try to sit and determine why I’m so frustrated.

I pray God shows me the sin in my heart and confess it. Part of it is selfishness. I deserve downtime. I deserve quiet and rest. I deserve to get everything done I want to get done. My impatience. The lack of thankfulness that I get to even stay home with Fitz when that’s really what I want to do.

I pray and ask God to soften my heart to Fitz’s needs. I know the stage five clinger is a stage, but I also want to meet Fitz where he’s at. Does he need some extra reassurance I’m not going to leave him? Ok. I can do this.

I praise God for the gift of Fitz. The gift of getting to stay home and raise him.  The gift he is even alive and here. I think God for the joy he brings and that he even still wants to be held and loved on by mom.

I thank God for the gift of breaks. In the form of 20 minute naps. Car rides. The zoo with grandmas and aunts where he’s mostly content to be in his stroller. Early bed times. Husbands/dads who will put him in the car seat when I’m at that “I can’t even” point, and drive him home and put him to bed.

I thank God for Weston. That he lets me text him and say this day blows. And I need a heck of a lot of prayer right now. And he just says he’s sorry and says he’ll pray. He’s listening and not trying to fix it from work. That he comes and checks on me when I’m in the shower before he even gets home with Fitz from dinner. He makes sure I’m ok.

I pray that tomorrow is better. For the both of us.

I praise God for and pray to God for a continual understanding of the Gospel in everyday life.  I can have patience with Fitz because Jesus had the utmost patience with me. I can forgive Fitz for “ruining” my day because it’s small and insignificant and Christ has forgiven me of everything small and large. I can run to Jesus in these times because he’s my source of joy, of patience, of kindness, of love.

 

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