Yesterday was a lesson in control. A reminder of how little I have and a challenge to attain much more than I want. It was the Monday at the start of our three-week spring break, and I had to play mom the whole day. That is a role that has some annoying tendencies, but I guess I have no choice but to keep playing my part.
"Children...will you please join us for a family meeting."
As we sat in the playroom/ husbands' office I reminded our oldest (at least five times) to stop rocking on the footrest of our rocking chair.
"Hey, Big Sprout, can you PLEASE stop throwing that ball against the wall so we can talk about life for the next three weeks."
I tried to control the meeting, so that I could get a handle on the schedule for the day and for the entire break. It sounds like I want control, but what I really want is for life to just happen and to enjoy the trip along the way, but because I am the mom in the house, apparently that is not an option. Through the morning, a series of
instructions for any and/or all of the sprouts seem incessant.
"Hey, turn off the tv and take your laundry upstairs."
"No...you cannot have a snack, you didn't even finish your breakfast."
"When do you plan on practicing your violin?"
"Did you brush your teeth...this week?"
"Please take your shoes off BEFORE you track mud through the whole house."
"Stop grabbing your sister." "I don't care if she grabbed you first."
It's this crazy battle between acceptance of the many things in life over which I will never have control, and having to step in as the one in charge because I am totally supposed to be in control. I don't want to be "controlling", but if I don't take my job seriously, people could deem that my kids are "out of control", a designation of which I would never be proud. So I do what I can to "get those kids under control" and it rings in my ears like the nagging I cannot stand...but apparently I can't avoid.