Realizations while driving the Struggle Bus

It had been 20 whole minutes since Rod left for work, and I was already calling him.

Crying.

Overwhelmed.

And mad. So mad.

You see, Rod works in the Emergency Room and because those never close, I often endure the bedtime struggle routine alone. {{#NightShiftProblems}} {{PS: Bless you single mama's. You've earned your spot in heaven.}}

Ahh, beloved bedtime. Nothing evokes such JOY and DREAD simultaneously quite like bedtime. On one hand, the little minions cherubs are going to bed {{insert heavenly chorus singing praises}} but you actually have to see the process through, beginning to end. And by process I mean cooking dinner, feeding, cleaning, bathing, teeth-brushing, reading, praying, and death-threats loving words to lull the little's to sleep. I'm sure for most normal people, that's what the bedtime process looks like. Because we're special, however, our bedtime routine is where pandemonium meets Mom's "dinosaur voice" (I'm working on it, people).

Our nightly routine:

Step 1: Look over that evening's meal plan and decide it's too much work. This is usually when I resort to creativity, which is always bad.

Step 2: Dinnertime. The child not asked to say the prayer is always offended; I can always count on in-chair body-convulsions or slow-sink-from-chair-to-floor. Dinner in our house is served with a side-dish of complaints from both boys that his brother "is looking at me!!!". The baby has realized that I'll do just about anything for him, including retrieve his sippy cup 49873870 each time he catapults it across the room or table. There are always reminders to the older boys that "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit.... and if you don't eat it, I guess you'll starve..." {{#BecauseImMean}}

Step 3: Bathing. I don't know why it's so impossible for little boys to clear their plates and walk directly to the bathroom. Oh, no. That would make too much sense. They like to wrestle down the hall, giggling, high-pitched screaming, running, and jumping. {{Enter #DinosaurVoiceWarmingUp}}

Step 3.5: Around this time, the baby begins to loose his ever-loving mind. He's grumpy from taking such horrible naps all day long and wants to go night-night.

As much as I would love to elaborate the details of our bedtime struggle, our spin-off story begins here. The older boys are, without question, the most destructive creative while I'm nursing their baby brother. This particular evening was no exception.

Middle boy (age Just-Turned-4) was already bathed and dressed for bed. I instructed oldest son (age 5) to take a shower while I put the baby to sleep. You'd think I'd learn. Or lock middle child in a room.

Lets just say I returned from nursing and putting baby to sleep to find an inch of water flooding the bathroom floor, wet hallway carpet, water dripping from the ceiling, water cascading down walls and the cabinets, the toilet plunger in the tub, and two little boys insisting the other "started it". I walked into the bathroom and literally felt water dripping on my head, as if I were standing beneath a raincloud.

And then the baby woke up crying. And by woke up, I mean he realized I put him in his crib and he wasn't happy about it.

After a complete meltdown, a crying call made to the husband, 11 towels, a jumbo fan, and an interrogation later, I discovered the following: Middle son decided he would be hilarious and pee in the shower while his older brother showered. For fun. He wanted to provoke his older brother, and it worked. My oldest son rightfully freaked out and a water-fight escalated.

That night, I felt like a failure. My son, after all, PEED IN THE SHOWER to upset his brother. What kind of mother raises a son who does that?! It was by the grace of God that somehow, quite miraculously, I stumbled upon a podcast. It was everything I needed to hear.

My identity has been wrapped up in motherhood, which is why I take my children's disobedience and struggles so personally. To want to be a good mother is noble. To recognize weaknesses and identify areas to improve upon is praiseworthy. But to allow my children's action to gnaw at my soul and to place their shortcomings as a burden upon my back isn't needful. I realized I needed to separate my identity from their behavior. My worth isn't intrinsically tied to their achievements or short-comings.

I would do well to take a step back and remember that first and foremost and ALWAYS, I am a daughter of God. He loves me individually and personally. His love isn't dependent on my children's good (or bad) behavior. There is nothing I can do to make Him love me more and there is nothing I can do to make him love me less. His love is simply there. That reassurance gives me such great hope. It also sets the parenting standard for me. I am reminded that I should love without conditions, offer grace abundantly, and weave discipline and punishment with love.

How we should believe God’s grace is bigger than our mistakes and how our weaknesses reveal His power. - See more at: http://godcenteredmom.com/2015/01/12/how-parent-grace-jeannie-cunnion-ep-55/#sthash.lZsZWmEP.dpuf