I Have Laryngitis. . .God is Hilarious

There are moments in life that I just sit back and cackle at God. "Cackle" as in laugh like a witch on Halloween. Those are the only people I know who actually "cackle". And now I'm sidetracked. I have been all day. I think it's the sore throat meds I'm on. No voice and I'm feeling a little loopy.

Back to God.  He's flippin hilarious.

I made the mistake a week or so ago of starting a new prayer regime about my parenting. You see, it's the only job I've ever had in my whole life where I've got 5 years experience under my belt, but I show up every single day and don't have a clue what I'm doing. I'm such a failure at raising humans. Someone should really teach a class or write a Parenting for Dummies book. I would be the first in line to get an autographed copy. But God doesn't write self-help books on parenting.  He's doing this silly thing called "Leading by Example" and I'm just a Really. Slow. Follower.

So I begun to pray about all this a week ago.  It started out with me praying that God would wake my kids up to what a fantastic person their mother is and help them realize that I have their best interest at heart and help them become little robots who hear the words that come out of my mouth and comply without argument. In Jesus Name, Amen.

That prayer seemed to fall on deaf ears. I tried a different approach.

Lord, help me to be able to reason with them.  Give me the right words to say, the toddler-ese slang language that their little hearts understand.  Give them a supernatural desire to do what I say. Please and thank you, Lord. You are able.

But apparently, He wasn't willing. I'm not sure why He wouldn't want to answer that momma's innocent plea, but I'm willing to try again.

I should pray for patience. Loads of patience for these little monsters that seem to rebel with the mighty passion of demons someday. God, grant me the patience of an elephant. For I know, Lord that a 22-month long pregnancy is more than any human could bear and that kind of strength and patience is exactly the kind that I need to make it through this frustrating phase of Terrible Threes I have going on at my house. Rain down your patience on me, God. Let me be drenched in your patience when the dynamic duo decides to paint my bathroom walls again with their own feces. Drown me in renewed patience when my kindergartner tells the checker at the grocery store that he thinks she's having FIVE babies at once cause her tummy is so big. Cover me with patience abounding when I have to answer for the 478th time that why it is NOT okay to strip down naked in front of the UPS man. Heaven help me! Give me more patience!

It seems as though none of my prayers were being answered. Not a single, blasted one. This parenting gig is beyond me. I'm tired of correcting and rebuking. I'm exhausted at the thought of training and disciplining for even one more second. "Put that down!. . .Don't pee on the dog!. . .Don't jump off the coffee table!. . .Don't drink mommy's coffee!. . .What are you wearing? Take off Mommy's bra. . .Barbies do NOT go in the toilet!. . .You may NOT say the word 'buttface' to your grandma!. . .Don't make me come over there!. . .Use your inside voice!. . .Stop tattle-telling!. . .Eat your vegetable. . .Don't eat marbles!. . .Poop does NOT go in your hair!. .."  Most days, by the time bedtime arrives, I'm so relieved because I'm literally SICK of the sound of my own voice.

Enter God's solution. . . . .Laryngitis.

Well played, Lord.  Well played.

It seems that in the last 24 hours, my household has been calmer and quieter than it has been in weeks. These little monsters seemed more focused and attentive because they have to be in order to hear my squeaks and whispers of the everyday delegations. I find it pointless to point out grievances that I normally would jump on in a split second, just because it would cost far more physical energy than it's worth. I may be more frustrated on the inside than usual, but they don't sense it at all because there is no fluctuation in my voice. There's just no voice at all, plain and simple. They are loving it. Surprisingly, without my ranting and raving and a-screamin-and-a-hollerin that I do on a daily basis, parenting has been hilariously easy today.

God's thoughts are not my thoughts and his ways are higher than my ways. . .

He's one smart dude, I'll tell ya.

I'm going to relax and enjoy the next few days. My voice may not return for a bit. I'm learning to parent differently in the process. This time of adaption is good for me. It's really showing me that kids truly are a product of their environment. When tensions are high and voices are raised and criticism flies rapidly, they are on edge, more defensive, and follow suit with "loud" behavior and words. Today, all was calm, all was quiet. So were these boys. They really are more "connected" to their mama than even I realize. These prayers all week were unjustified because there was no willingness to change MY perspective.

Must God always have to teach me things the hard way? Apparently so.

I'm learning folks. I would shout it from the rooftops if I could.  "I'M FINALLY UNDERSTANDING THIS PARENTING GIG!!  IT'S JUST AS MUCH ABOUT MY GROWTH AS IT IS ABOUT THE KID'S."  I would tell the world, Lord. . . .but I need my voice back first.

Amen.