My Crazy Creative Life: A Lesson From Spilled Orange Juice, Forgiveness and Grace
I love Sundays. The day of the week dedicated to fun, relaxation and for our family it also includes attending church and recharging the spiritual batteries. There are times when I have to fly solo with my boys depending on my husband's demanding work schedule. There is always an interruption in the peaceful bliss when it comes to getting two kids ready to go somewhere and that stress seems to be heightened on the days that I am juggling that routine by myself.
This particular Sunday morning seemed more chaotic than usual. A lot of that was my own fault as I got up late wanting to lay in bed too long which put our entire morning routine behind. I detest being late anywhere but church especially for there is nothing more mortifying for me than to stroll into church late. I mean, is it too much to ask to show up for God on time?
As I rushed around making breakfast, getting myself and two boys ready I found myself barking orders like a drill instructor: "get dressed, comb your hair, brush your teeth, we have to leave soon, stop picking on the dog and each other". My stress level was spilling over onto the boys as they were starting to fight and wear on each other's last nerve.
We were barely running on schedule when I heard my 9 year old screaming from the living room. To my shock, I find my oldest standing in the middle of the dining room in his nice church clothes completely soaked in orange juice thanks to my quick tempered 3 year old who had thrown a full glass across the kitchen. Sticky orange liquid was strewn from the dining room and half way into the living room.
I stood there ready to just throw up my hands, change back into my pajamas and call it a day but knew that I would be guilt ridden for the rest of the day for letting a little set back keep us from our normal Sunday routine. So I settled for a good old fashioned tantrum, stomping off to find the mop bucket, which was outside filled with dissolving sidewalk chalk (nothing is easy right?). As I mopped the floors I could feel my irritation level at an all time high, we were going to be late and I HATE to be late.
By the time I got everyone changed and we loaded up in the car it was clear that we were not going to be on time. My youngest had crocodile tears running down his face, my oldest is puffed up in the back seat with his arms folded across his chest madder than a wet hen. I felt like I needed to be dipped in Holy water for wanting a glass of wine at 9 a.m. in the morning.
As we back out of the driveway, I take a long deep breath. I am reminded that life is beautifully unpredictable and imperfect. I start to refocus my energy into a place of gratitude for the many blessings we are gifted with each and every day reminding myself that I really need to work on my patience, or lack thereof.
On our way to church, I apologized to the boys with full transparency for staying in bed too long which caused me to be overly stressed and run behind schedule. We each took turns sharing a reason that we were thankful for. I put on some of our favorite music and redirected our focus to what we were looking forward to the coming week. The mood started to lighten and the tears began to fade. Being late is not the end of the world and neither is spilled orange juice.
On days when I am not my motherly best, I always find myself most thankful for simple things, like forgiveness, grace and the unconditional love that reflects back at me when I look into the eyes of my children. The simple things truly are the greatest blessings.
April Williams is the #CreativeMomista and Soulpreneur of 2 boys + whimsical wavemaker + creative expressive + Texas country girl + branding junkie who loves green mint tea + horses + fuzzy socks + surrounding herself with high achieving amazing women + peppermint anything + the color red + cozy coffee shops. She is a branding strategist for creative women entrepreneurs and founder of Creative Brandista™ .