Mothering From My Knees

I totally impressed myself this morning.

Katie was pleased, too.

I went in to Fitness Together for my workout and did more than I ever have before. Katie's goal for me has been to do three pull-ups. (Not so hard, you think? YOU try it!) Previously I have managed to do two, maybe two and a half. Once Katie gave me credit for two and three-quarters.
But today?
I did a-l-m-o-s-t four!!!
Then we went into squats. Katie said, "Last time you did these, you did it with 115 pounds. And you did three sets of 12." (Katie knows I have a bit of a competitive spirit. She just has to tell me what I did last time, or what someone else can do, to motivate me to try harder.) "Today, you're going to do it with 120 pounds."
I did.

And then there were the upright rows. Katie was counting my reps and wanted me to go to 15. But when I was at 14 she asked, "Can you do 20?" I said, "I don't know. Maybe."
I did.

I got lots of high-fives from Katie this morning. It felt good to work hard and make progress. I know I am getting stronger.

Even so, I am fully aware that no matter how many pull-ups I do, no matter how much weight I can carry when I do squats, and regardless of how many reps I do on my upright rows, I am a complete weakling when it comes to mothering.
Even if someone says to me, "Mrs. Jones kept her cool yesterday when Bobby was throwing a fit. She sent him to his room for a time out and baked a pie while he sat there thinking about his behavior," I cannot rise to the occasion and do "better." Competitive spirit, or not.

I have realized, the only way I am going to survive motherhood - the only way my children are going to survive childhood - is if I am mothering from my knees.

Two nights ago Matthew was very upset with me. He was mad that I wouldn't let him have "more" ice cream. I'll skip the gory details. But he ended up in his room banging on the walls and his toy box. I had sent him there because of the words he was using with me, and then found myself going in to talk to him more.
Really, all I wanted to do was tell him that if he truly felt the need to bang on things, it would be much better for him to hit his pillow. No chance there of breaking anything or hurting himself. But that sent him off on another tirade and I just was not up for listening to it.
So I went to my own room.

And I dropped to my knees.

And I begged God to help me through this thing called motherhood.
I prayed for Matthew, and I prayed for me.

And I cried a few tears.

Later on in the evening Matthew came to me and apologized for the way he had been behaving, and I thanked God for working in his little heart.

When bedtime came, I told Matthew I was so glad that he had thought about his behavior and apologized to me. I reminded him that I love him, and even when I am irritated by his behavior my love for him doesn't stop. He smiled at that thought and then wanted to know if I was sorry for dumping his ice cream. (Part of the gory details I skipped. But I did it thoughtfully and calmly. And believe me - it was an appropriate response to his behavior!)
I just looked at him and said, "No, honey. I'm not. Remember what we're learning? Bad decisions result in bad consequences. And losing your ice cream was the bad consequence of your bad decisions to yell at me."

I really think he "got it."
And I am so thankful for the strength God is giving me while I am mothering from my knees.