Be Still

This morning was not a good morning for me.

I woke up late with a sore throat. Went to go check on the Mermaid to find that she had completely destroyed her room. I stumbled downstairs, carrying the Guppy because for some reason the thought of walking was too overwhelming to her, and started to make her breakfast. In the process, I stubbed my toe, hit my head on a cabinet door, and spilled two quarts of lemonade all over the kitchen floor.

As I stood standing in a lemonade puddle and rubbing my head, I could sense the tension in the girls. They were holding hands, quietly watching me and ready to bolt. I know it's because when situations like this normally come up, I don't deal with it very well. I yell and curse and become a mean grumpy mama bear.

This time, something in their expression stopped me. Maybe it was the slight glitter of anxiety in their eyes, or the way the Mermaid stood in front of the Guppy, as if to protect her from the outburst she knew would come. Whatever it was, it stopped me dead cold and put a lump in my throat. In the silence, I heard that voice again, and remembered my promise to listen.

I honestly believe that we are our children's best teachers. What have I been teaching them about dealing with stressful situations? That's it's best to yell and curse and make everyone else miserable? That wouldn't do.

I suddenly saw the humour in the situation I was in. I laughed and said to the girls, "Mommy made a big mess, didn't she?" and they laughed and nodded in agreement, looking a little relieved. Then the Mermaid ran to get me towels and they both helped me clean up the mess and finish making breakfast.

The girls have finished their breakfast and we're all sitting at the table coloring and deciding what we are going to do today. I came so close to missing out on this moment, on their smiles and sweet laughter. But thanks to that little voice in the stillness, I didn't let my entire day be set and decided over some spilled lemonade.

Be Still