Libby and I both finally seemed healthy enough to attend church this week. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the best of moods when we had to leave and my patience was wearing thin. So after a 20 minute car ride with a screaming toddler, we finally pulled into the church parking lot. After getting her out of her car seat, she promptly decided to run away from me and decided to head for the woods. After catching her, almost dropping her (it could have been my purse, bible, the baby belly and her diaper bag that were in my hands in addition to her that contributed to the almost dropping) and being hit in the face by her multiple times, we finally made it into the church building, both of us in tears.
Thankfully Grandma Connie heard the screams of a little child and came to see if she could be of help. It just happened to be her Granddaughter throwing the fit and her own daughter running to the bathroom crying out of frustration and embarrassment.
While I know most Mom's have been through this, it sure hurt me at the moment. Thankfully, after the service many of the older and wiser Mom's came up to me and told me how they saw me struggle as I was walking in from the parking lot and how it took them back to the days when they were experiencing the same things I was currently going through. They shared some of their stories and while it didn't make me feel better about what had happened earlier that morning, it sure made me feel like I wasn't alone. No one looked down on me or told me their kids never acted up while in public, which was such a relief. Nothing hurts worse than being made to feel inadequate as a parent through those stares and stories.
Thankfully, after a long car-ride home (once again with a screaming toddler) Libby played in her bed quietly for an hour before falling asleep for her nap. When she woke up, Grandma Connie was there to help me care for her through the rest of the day (until William got home from work). Then Uncle Kelly and Auntie Stacy came over for dinner and Auntie was a life saver, playing with Libby until it was bedtime. As much as I love my daughter, there are days I just can't seem to find the patience necessary to care for her in a manner that reflects love and not frustration and anger. I am so blessed to have family so close by to help when those times arise. I literally don't know how I would have done it without them yesterday. Thank you.
(And thanks to Auntie Stacy for sending me the story about the "dancing in the fountain". Libby just may do that someday...)