[Winter 2006]
Forgot to put my daughter’s snack in her book bag. Got a call from Mrs. Stone who politely asked, “Hi Mrs. Paulus. How are you? Just wanted to know what you were thinking you wanted to do for Hannah’s snack today?”
Found myself falling…down, down, down from the height of “Hard-working Mom” to the depths of “Irresponsible Parent”. I hate this fall. If you’re anything like me, you’re a lot harder on yourself than the person you’ve bumped in this crowded line of life. I feel myself taking a nose-dive into disappointment with taunting words poking me on the decline: “I can’t believe I forgot my daughter’s snack? What kind of mom am I anyway? She was probably so stressed out when she opened up her backpack and turned it up-side-down looking for her snack. Sheesh.”
When Hannah gets off the bus, I ask her vaguely, “How was your day Bubbles?”
“Goooood.”
I pry a little, “Anything hard? Anything go wrong today?”
She looks at me with a “I wonder if you know this already” look, and says, “Well, one thing. I couldn’t find my snack when I got to school.”
I then ask the sinking question every parent dreads to ask, knowing they were the cause of their child’s pain, “Did that upset you? Did that stress you out?”
“No.”
My fall slows down and I feel the cushion of a trampoline catching me.
“It was okay,” she continues, “Because Mrs. Stone called you, I think, and then you dropped it off. I got it a little late. But I got it.”
That trampoline bounces me back up. Up, Up, Up…back to life, back to hope, back to second chances. On the wings of Grace.
“So you weren’t upset at me for forgetting your snack?”
“It’s okay mom, we all forget things sometimes.”
So then one day, I try to buy one last thing at Target, and try to rush back during 3:00P.M. traffic, only to miss Hannah’s drop-off time by a few minutes. I drive to the school and wait for her while the bus brings her back, and I see her little face just above the side window. This is the second time and we’re only four months into the school year. I know when they’re voting in the staff room for “Slacker Mom of the Year,” my name is racking up the votes.
Once again, I’m falling. Down. Down. Down. I land on my bed of blunders and my pillow soaks up my tears of lost bets.
“Hannah,” I say to her as she descends the bus, “Sorry I wasn’t there to get you at our bus stop.”
“That’s okay, Mom,” she says smiling, “I had fun riding the bus and seeing all the decorated houses.”
A voice inside my heart says, “Wipe your tears. Get up off this bed. Try again.” Back I go, back into life. Back to hope, back on the road to Forgiveness. Up the staircase of Grace.
One day, I’m driving with the girls, and Hannah starts whining about what I told her we are having for dinner.
I say my usual, “Well, you can either eat what I make or no dessert.”
“Well, what’s for dessert?”
“Tonight’s fruit night, so either pears or bananas.”
“Ohhhh,” she whines even louder, “I don’t want fruit.”
Then I do something I’ve never done before. Right. I turn the music up really, and I mean REALLY, loud. I want to drain out the noise, but, of course, it just grows louder. Now, all three of them (before Beara-Bear came into the picture) are crying at the top of their lungs. All I can think is when I get out this car in a few minutes, the whole street will know I’m a crazed dysfunctional mother.
I’m falling and falling fast. I hit bottom and it’s not a trampoline. It’s not a bed either. It’s more like a hard wooden floor. I lay their, glued to the sting of my failure. I do not know when or how I will rise up from this one.
We somehow manage to get inside and all plop on the couch to debrief. Whimpers point to potty needs of my younger two. I know what I need to do, but I’m still red with anger. I have no choice. It’s the only way to get off this hard wooden floor.
“Hannah,” I start with a sigh of fleeting hope, “Mommy messed up. I should not have turned the music louder in the car, just because I was upset. I’m so sorry. Could you please for…” Hannah turns to me and throws her arms around my neck with all her five-year old might.
“Mommy, I love you!” She reads my heart and knows exactly what I need to remember.
I feel my cheek loosen from the wooden floor, my arms gaining strength through her love, hope through her words, and healing through her grace.
For the record, I’m not a psych patient suffering from manic depression. I’m also not a perfectionist, always hoping to parent and live without messing up. I’m simply a woman who thanks God for the chance to be a mom and thrives on the gifts of grace I receive from my loved ones daily…sometimes in hefty doses! I love grace, because it’s free, no strings attached, no expectations in return and no points accumulated. Grace gives me the freedom to mess up, the encouragement to try again and love harder –simply out of gratitude. Life without grace is like falling with no bottom to catch my fall. Crazy thing is, God not only catches me. The wooden floor. The one I fall on when I mess up big time. It’s the Cross. He already paid the price. I don’t have to beat myself up anymore.
Sweet Grace. Good Grace. Can’t imagine my life without Grace.
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I definitely find that the quick and easy forgiveness I’ve received from my children at different times have made me understand and experience God’s grace so much more concretely. When they’re little, they love so unconditionally!
Thanks Carrie! Always so tickled at how God had us cross paths at Morgan Park!!! And sooooooo glad He did!! hugs and kisses from NY! -Raj
I remember when you wrote this! I LOVE IT! Every mom can relate to that feeling of disappointing their children. You expressed the power of confessing your mess-ups and giving your kids the grace to forgive you as well. Good job Raj!
Aint that the truth!! Thanks for reading!! 🙂
I believe that in my life there have never been greater moments of experiencing and understanding God’s grace than those expressions of unconditional love from wife and my kids when I have blown it. Grace goes from being a theological abstraction to a concrete reality in the hugs, kisses and words such as it’s ok Papi I love you and forgive you. Wow, grace is truly amazing, thanks for sharing.
Awwww! Thanks for sharing !! And all this time I thought you were purrrrrfect!! LOL. 🙂
Can relate def. I think all moms have one of these moments sometime in life. Andi just try to remember I makes mistakes and am not perfect. Just try my hardest to do my best. 🙂