Garbage

It was a typical early morning. I woke up to Ty restlessly talking in his sleep. As I entered the bathroom, I felt the wetness through my socks. It took a moment for my foggy mind to make the connection to Ty and his reckless pottying. I changed my socks and remembered Maddie lost another tooth last night! Shoot! I rummaged through my husband's dresser and my purse pockets and found 4 quarters. The girls were sound asleep as I entered their room. Slowly, I slipped my hand under the pillow, searching for an envelope. Wetness. More pee . . . ? I left the envelope with the quarters in the wet bed. 

An hour later, another puddle appeared in my bathroom. When I approached all the kids about the abundance of wetness that morning, they lied. That was it. I called my children in and had an adult fit. You know, that fleshy garbage of "poor me" and "do you have any idea how much I do around here?"

I sat in my son's room and cried. I cried over the piled up toys and the smell of pee in his bed. I cried for my lack of freedom since we felt called to homeschooling. 

Then I felt a little hand on my shoulder. "Mom, why are you crying?" 
Me: "Because I'm tired."
Maddie: "Why Mom?"
Me: "I just don't know why I can't be like other Mom's and just send you guys to school."
Maddie: "No Mom, we don't want to do that. (Crying) We are sorry. We will help you."

Then, in a perfect moment, all three children hugged me. 

At first I felt guilty for allowing them to witness this weakness. But then I realized that is the humanity that our children don't always see when we get alone time. My children are with me all the time so they see the good, the bad and the ugly. That morning, they saw me as a person with feelings and they responded with compassion and love. Perfection.