hypocrite

Tuesday was a magnifying glass day. To keep me humble and help me realize what I need to work on.

But Tuesday came right after Monday, when I left all four children home in the capable hands of their father to help at a baby shower. I carried on several conversations without being interrupted by desperate pleas for snack or trips to the bathroom. I didn't have to take anybody away from the public to iron out bad behavior. I helped with someone else' baby and I helped serve lunch to the shower attendees. And I stayed until almost everyone had left to help clean up. I was feeling needed and helpful and not needy, like Old Mother Hubbard, who had so many children she didn't know what to do.

One older lady, on her way out the door, commended me about some aspect of parenting. At which time, I reminded her that she wasn't around a typical day at home. But she is very good at encouraging. Her children are grown up, I think, and time has minimized the frantic intensity of taking care of small children. She encourages younger moms and sews quilts for their babies, which is also a very needed skill.

But Tuesday, oh Tuesday, reminded me of how very far I have to go. It always seems to be worse when I've had a little break from the kids. Shouldn't it be the opposite? Shouldn't I be more refreshed and more patient? Anyway, Tuesday morning nobody could get their stuff together for swimming lessons. Every teeny tiny job I asked for help blew away with the wind. Ellie couldn't function without being held. So nothing got done, more disasters were made than were cleaned up.

But where the Monday night lady spurred me on. A lady at swimming lessons on Tuesday morning appalled me. Probably because I saw my own wretchedness in her. One of her kids forgot some part of clothing she was to change into after lessons. Right in the girls pool locker room, this woman reminded her poor skinny, pale, shivering 5 year old that she was "screwed". Yes, that word. Not once but twice in a room full of people.

I thought of that lady often during the rest of the day. Each time I shrieked like Cruella DeVille at some annoying behavior in Priya and Sam, I thought of her. What a giant hypocrite I am. Aghast at her harsh words at the pool, but really the only difference was the location. God still sees whether we're in public or in the yard.