I’ll tell my girls that they never fought. I’ll say that I didn’t remember potty training being “that bad.”
Right as I returned from getting my son, the service truck pulled in the driveway behind me. The repairman showed up -- 45 minutes early. Friends, it was time to call it: There would be no shower.
I allowed the teensy "I can do this" thought to take root and grow strength. I even told a friend about my plans for accountability's sake. And when dinner time rolled around, I did it: I threw the kids in the van and we went to a diner.
I know that my job is a lot more abstract than the very visible and large power lines and equipment my husband points out everywhere we go, but I wonder if my son will ever see me as more than the woman who rubs his back when he can't sleep or who packs his lunch bag daily.
I know it's hard, but thank you for what you do when you bring your children to church. Please know that your family -- with all of its noise, struggle, commotion, and joy -- are not simply tolerated, you are a vital part of the community gathered in worship.
There is no such thing as allowing your kid to play with your phone "just once."