My nerves are completely shot and my stomach is feeling the part of a stressed out mommy.
I worked hard at including the little ladies in our chores this morning. I know they need to be doing these things with me - yet, I find that it is so much more hassle and problematic to have them help me. There. I've said it.
However, I set things up this morning to make it easier for them to help me and it went fairly smoothly. One cleared the table while the other put a load of clothes in the washer. Then, while I vacuumed, one put the load of wet clothes in the dryer while the other added another load to the washer. I was feeling pretty good about this.
Then, we moved on to making carrot cake - part of our BFIAR activities for this week. Is it just me or is cooking with more than one little stretching? I have learned that dividing the ingredients in half and giving them each their own bowl to stir helps - and we did that today. They each added their own flour, sugar, eggs, spices, etc...
Everything fell apart when Rachel's batter was being spooned out of her bowl into a measuring cup and spices were landing on her arm, the chair, the floor, etc... and Emily was needing my help with something else. Meanwhile, Samuel was crawling near my legs screaming his lungs out to be picked up. He'd already had a snack and just wanted me to pick him up.
It went down hill drastically from there - and I wondered why I even suggested we bake carrot cakes today. I had thought it would be a fun way to incorporate carrots from our book - but I should know from past experience that baking is one of the most stressful things for me to do with my children.
I wondered why my patience level is so low in the kitchen. I wondered why I cannot handle the children God has given me. I wondered what my children will remember about baking with me (oh, let's not go there today). I wondered if I am expecting too much of them for their age - perhaps this isn't the season to cook together. Wondering, wondering.
And, all the while - the knot in my stomach is growing more intense and my voice is growing less patient and louder. I don't like being this kind of mommy - and it makes me feel like such a failure. I have apologized to them - but my nerves are still completely shot and I feel like there are many questions that I am still processing.
Perhaps I need to be poured into a pan and baked a while to be refined with God's love so that I can come out something more desirable and enjoyable.
Or, maybe we should just stay out of the kitchen for the next few years.
The timer is going off - so I must go and get the cakes from the oven...