“Ada.  Wipe, flush, wash your hands.”
“I know, I know.”

Ada and I were at a friend’s house this afternoon when I had to issue that reminder.  My friend said, “I’m so glad I’m not the only one who has to tell my kids that every day.”  We discussed life, babies, children, victories, frustrations… and it was good.  It’s amazing to me how women form bonds over life, especially over frustrations, and especially over frustrations dealing with their children.  We need to know that we’re not in this alone.  That we’re not the only ones dealing with these issues.  That someone else is there with us, or has been there and made it to the other side.  We need a circle of trusted friends who will laugh with us, cry with us, pray for us, and correct us with love.  It’s why we get on Facebook, read blogs, join groups like MOPS or a life group at church, or maybe a church at all.

As you read this, I don’t know where you’re at in life – if you have kids, if you’re married, if you’re a woman… but for those of you who are in the same stage as me, or just a few stages behind, let me offer you  a glimpse into my life.  Here are the current trenches I crawl through almost daily.  Maybe they’ll help you, maybe they’ll make you laugh, maybe they’ll encourage you to pray for my children.

• I got a hand-written apology from Grace yesterday because she stole a piece of candy from her piano teacher.
• Eli kicked Grace so hard Monday that she dropped to the ground and couldn’t breathe because she was crying so hard.  At the doctor’s office.
• Ada usually doesn’t listen unless there’s either a serious consequence, or a serious reward on the line.
• I don’t care how smooth the morning’s been, how long we’ve been awake, or how “on track” we’ve remained.  As soon as I say “It’s time to put your shoes on,” all hell breaks loose.  Where did you take your shoes off yesterday?  Why is your coat in the bathroom?  Crap, whose library day is it?  You said hot lunch, you can’t change your mind now!  I don’t know where your journal is.  Put your shoes on.  Get off your sister.  Why are your pants off?  No, you can’t take candy for snack.  Because it’s against the teacher’s rules!  Do not turn the TV on!  No, you can’t have more breakfast in the car.  You can’t wear your rain boots to school in the winter.  Get your hat.  Stop making farting noises.  Don’t hit your sister.  Get your bottom out of his face.  Put your shoes on.  Put your shoes on!  PUT YOUR SHOES ON!!!
• I find poop, but no toilet paper, in the toilet regularly.
• I find toothpaste designs in the sink regularly.
• I find used toilet paper NEXT to the toilet regularly.
• I do not negotiate with children once they’re tucked in bed.  Unless you’re bleeding or puking, I’m finished parenting for the night.  Except for the 3 more loads of laundry to fold, Legos to put away, shoes to put away, supper dishes to wash…
• I dread breaks from school.  Let’s be honest, some days I dread 3:25.
• I’m ready for that phase where my children sleep til lunch time.
• I’m ready for that phase where I can go out with Chad without paying for a baby-sitter.
• Poor Chad walks in from work to “Get him out of the kitchen!” or some variation thereof.

So there you have it.  It’s not pretty, but parenting isn’t.  But the reality is, someday I will miss 7 year-old Grace, 6 year-old Eli, and 5 year-old Ada.  I may not miss this exact phase, but I will miss these children.  That’s what I’m trying so very hard to remember.  My kids won’t always beg for a hug and kiss good night.  They won’t always be excited to see me in the carpool line at school.  So for now I’ll breathe.  I’ll pray.  I’ll call a friend to talk me down from that day’s ledge.  I’ll breathe some more.  I’ll pray some more.  Because some days, that’s all I can do.