Missed the Boat

Oh, darn it, I hate days like this! Days where I wake up and one little incident sets me off and puts me in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. Of course, I completely realize it's all my fault, which makes it all the worse. Will I ever get this mothering thing right? Sure doesn't seem like it often times, with all I do to fail miserably.

Allie lost her ballet slippers this morning (of course I just found them thirty minutes ago, but that's beside the point), the morning of her last day of dance camp, which included a little recital. Somehow she misplaced them, and except for looking in two places she refused to look for them ALL MORNING, and preferred to just sit and pout or cry because "they were gone!" not to mention I was darn angry. I'll admit, I threw my own fit about it, ranting and raving about how I had to get myself ready and that she needed to get off her duff and start looking, and then I had a good cry. I did apologize to her, but I'm still in a really bad mood. I tried to be positive during her class, but she just messed around the entire time-- jumping like a maniac, unable to maintain focus for more than thirty seconds, making faces at the other kids or me. Ugh. It didn't help that after I get us all buckled in the car to go home, and am pulling out of my parking space, that Allie declares with a gasp, "My necklace!" She had worn her butterfly necklace to class (even though I tell her "no jewelry") and the teacher had her take it off and set it aside. So, we had re-park and all get out of the car to go back to the second floor and retrieve her necklace.

Having already been in a bad mood, this did not help.

So just now as I was going about the house, picking up toys and magazines, I lifted up two copies of The Friend from the banana chair seat to see those darn ballet slippers. I quietly took them in to Allie, and she clasped her hands by her heart in joy. I held my arms out and she wrapped her little arms around me in a tight hug, grinning that cute, cheesy little grin of hers. I left the room, and it occurred to me where I went wrong this morning (besides the fact that I threw a fit). I'm sure many of you moms out there have already figured it out.

How many times do we read in church magazines or hear conference talks relating experiences where the mother taught the child in such a situation to pray for help and guidance? Sure, they were only ballet slippers, but they were important to Allie... and to me apparently. Instead of calmly suggesting we pray for help and then go searching with a clear head receptive to the Spirit's promptings, I chose to get angry and nag the poor child. Way to go, Mom. When I realized this, I doubled over and bawled. I totally missed an opportunity to teach the power of prayer. I'm sure the opportunity will come again, but I tend to beat myself up whenever I mess up... which means I spend my life black and blue.

I just need to put it all behind me, and be determined that I won't make the same mistake next time. Can't guarantee it, but at least I can be more conscientious about it.