For A Moment

Yesterday, in the early afternoon, Braeden tried to mow the lawn.  He began and had troubles of one kind and another.  Later, he began again and tried to get the lawn mower started and this time, it refused.

He asked me to help him.  Which he hates to do.  It insults his 13 year old manhood.  Fortunately for his ego/unfortunately for the productivity of the endeavor, I usually can't get it started either when it's being stubborn.  I gave it a few tries, it gave a few sputters then I gave it another pull and it practically pulled my arm off.  If it wasn't so heavy I would have picked it up and hurled it at something.  Darn lawn mower.

The only person more frustrated than me was Braeden.  My gentle first born.  He was furious.  He said, "Go ahead and go back in the house Mom.  I'll figure it out.  I'm going to MOW this lawn."

But he couldn't get it started.

He said, "I'm such a LOSER.  I should be able to DO this."

I don't like hearing my children talk like that.  I really don't.  For all of the things that Braeden may or may not be, this I know.  He is not a loser.  I told him it was OK.  I said, "That lawn mower is impossible.  Just wait for Dad."

Give yourself a break.

Seconds later I was in the kitchen, realizing that the meat I needed for our crock pot dinner was a frozen mass (nothing makes me a crock pot devotee like our swim schedule).  Aggravation bubbled in me as I contemplated that rock solid brick of meat.  I thought, "I'm such a LOSER.  I should be able to DO this."

Then I realized the echo and I stopped myself.  I realized that instead of thawing meat, I'd been teaching my children and visiting teaching and making lunch and reading an extra long chapter of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 to Mark.  (That boy loves his Ramona Quimby.)  I wouldn't have rated thawed meat above any of that.

It was OK.

In a moment of clarity (and moments are all that illusive clarity will relinquish to me), I felt the love of my Heavenly Father.  For just a moment I knew, knew that for all the things I may or may not be, this I know.  He does not think I'm a loser.

So I shouldn't either.

P.S.  Some days don't work out like you've planned.  Because of an unexpected swim-a-thon (I won't even get into my frustration about the unexpectedness of swimming events coming my way.  As Braeden would say, I need to write a stern letter.) swimming took extra long (hours).  Adam stayed with the kids and I took Mark home.  Adam accidentally left his lights on in his trusty little car and his battery was dead.  Mark and I went on a rescue mission and we all had pizza at Alfy's at 9:00.  Braeden and Emma completely deserved pizza.  They each swam nearly 150 laps (about 2 miles).

We'll eat my crock pot creation for lunch.

All's well that ends well.