Help!

So last Thursday was a completely frustrating day. I was woken up by the boys to a pantry-full of spilt Cheerios and a living room full of spilt Rice Krispies. During cleaning, the boys seemed surprised that I kept telling them to stop walking on the spilt cereals. Later in the action, Sage had (yet again) pulled an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet, which was dangerously close to sharing its contents with the floor. “Daddy, we’re hungry.” “Yes, as soon as I am finished wasting my time on your messes, I’ll feed you…more food.”

During breakfast, Ethan wanted to try my coffee, Spencer wanted a screwdriver to open his piggy bank, and Sage freaked out when I cut his waffle in half right after he had just told me…to cut his waffle in half. Then, already way late coming to work, I made the mistake of doing a “quick” transaction at the bank. One hour later (not kidding), I was back on the road where no one (yet again) knows how to just drive not like an idiot.

So, I was angry, and I had let the bankers know, for which I felt guilty. I had yelled at my kids, for which I felt guilty. And I had silently wished nuclear events on other drivers, for which I didn’t feel guilty since other drivers don’t count as real people.

I was frustrated. And I was more frustrated because I knew I shouldn’t be so frustrated. Take up my Cross daily? God help me to do so. As small as mine is, it’s still way too big for me.