My Children Have More Troops

Happy Grilled Cheese Day!

I get so frustrated with myself when I lose my patience with my kids.

I remind myself that Cole is only three. Three. When I think about how short a time that is to be alive and to have soaked up the cultural mores of human beings I feel guilty.

He’s only trying to have fun and be with Mommy.

But, oh my goodness, when he just seems to have cotton balls in his ears and I have to repeat myself like twenty times, I want to run down the stairs, open the back door and run outside.

Then there’s Thomas screaming, I mean—SCREAMING—at the top of his lungs. 

And then Genny will turn and snap when I say no about something: Oh! Fine! What-EVER!

And I’m standing there asking myself, oh my goodness, why is this so tough? They are only three little children and I am one big, smart, strong adult.

And then there is my answer staring me in the face: they are a much larger army than I.