Who are you?

So every once in a while my kids do something that makes me want to say "Who are you?" Sometimes that question is a positive thing and other times it's because I want to run from my life. The latter is what comes to mind today.

Having five kids brings a lot of variety to life. They are all so very different and sometimes that brings great joy to the family and other times great conflict. It has been really interesting finding every child's "thing" that they like best or do best. It has been just as interesting and painful to see the areas where they completely fail, again and again.

This past year, one child in particular has been failing in more than one area repeatedly and for this child's sake there will be no name listed (though I know some of you know my family well enough to pick who it may be). This child is continually "forgetting" basic things. It is actually beyond me that two minutes after been asked to brush teeth, that it is completely forgotten. I cannot believe that when I say go pick up your room it means sit down and play. I am pretty certain that every day when I say hang up your coat that the same four kids do it and this one kid leaves a trail from front door to back, down the hall, down the stairs all the way to the downstairs bathroom. What is even more unbelievable it that when I say "Did you eat breakfast" this child actually has to check.

So as a loving parent, I sometimes guide and remind. As the frustrated parent I sometimes yell and lecture (for way too long). But in the end, I sit in this child's room and read a book while this child cleans. I remind this child every day to brush teeth and hair multiple times until it is done. I walk around the house calling this child's name to pick up all things dropped on the floor. And I pray for a patient spouse who will love this child in the future as it is apparent this is who this child is and may not change...ever. And then I pray for my husband, my other kids, my friends, my family and me. I pray that we have the patients to love this child and remember this is who this child is and that God designed this child. And then...I go into my room, close the door, and scream into my pillow, "God, why on earth did my parent's "curse" work and I ended up with a child just like ME?" Oh well, I guess I had it coming ;) Oh, and to my dad, I am so very sorry. I really am. I have a much cleaner room now (or at least for today).