Tepid Coffee

I should have known it was cold when it didn't burn my leg. But I was too busy being exasperated and irritated (Peter says "at least you weren't indignant". Isaac says "what's indignant mean?". Peter: "I don't remember. I just know it isn't good.")

We haven't accomplished much school today. You can tell by it being 10:31 and I am typing on my blog rather than hearing someone read or reading to them. I'm eating my fourth protein bar (does that mean I don't get to eat lunch?) and my now-hot coffee is going down smoothly while I ignore my children.

Ruby flopped down to read her last phonics lessons and made my coffee splash. She flopped because it was the third time I'd asked her to sit. I want to justify my eruption of temper and declare (in an indignant voice) that my jeans are wet! And my coffee is cold! And it's not my fault, you foolish children!

My kids were dutifully repentant while I ranted. But they thought it was funny (I could see the twinkle in their downcast eyes) as I indignantly dried the splashes and said "now I am going to drink this coffee in peace while each of you does what I say instead of whining for an hour and then complaining you aren't done!" And then my coffee was blech (bletch as Isaac says) and tepid. And their eyes twinkled. And darn it, (yes, Anna learned that lovely, feminine phrase from me) I laughed!

Praise Jesus. Not 10 minutes earlier I had grumbled at the sink: why, oh why, Lord. why do I ask you for grace overflowing in the early morning and then spend my later morning overflowing with irritation? why do I pray for my husband and kids and ask for your power and love to flow out of me and then dump grump on them?

Thank you Jesus for their twinkling eyes, overflowing grace to their mama. Thank you for laughing, giggling, cackling kids who find their mama's cold coffee hilarious (vengeance is mine, says the Lord!) and forgive me so quickly. Thank you for grace overflowing.

Ruby, will you forgive me for overreacting about spilled coffee?

Yes, Mommy.