We can.

As I was reading this article, I realized something.

I am not a yeller but I do not always have a kind tone when speaking to my little one.

Why do we let the "little things" turn us in to monsters?

(the spilled milk, the 5,000 cheerios in your backseat, the fight at bedtime, the constant "NO's!", 

the battle of changing a diaper)

I know why, it's the pressure. Good golly Miss Molly. Some days I just can't handle the pressure. 

So, then I started wondering where this devil like pressure came from. 

Then it hit me, it came from ME. Little ol' me? Yep.

No one else made me feel pressured. No one has ever said to me, 

"YOU MUST DO IT ALL GRACEFULLY WITH A SMILE ON YOUR FACE!!!!"

Case in point,

We need to leave for church in 30 minutes, I need to finish my makeup, my hair and pick out clothes. Landon walks in crying because he can't find his "piderman" so then I have to stop mid-eyeliner and spend 5 minutes looking for Piderman. Great, now I have 25 minutes to get ready for church. Finished my makeup. Now, let me start my hair....half of it's curled and Landon comes in saying "Sagey took piderman!!!!" Great. The dog is hiding under the bed with piderman clenched between her small but vicious teeth. Now I am laying down on the floor bribbing the dog with goldfish or cheerios so she will come out and I can get piderman back to it's rightful owner. Sucesss. But now I have 10 minutes to finish my hair, and get dressed. I decide to forget my hair and put in in a bun and go straight to my closet. I'm dressed. We're headed out the door when I realize that landon's bag hasn't been packed so I rush around throwing diapers in snacks in a bag all while Landon is asking me to hold him and the dog is whining because she wants more goldfish. My husband is waiting in the car. I run to the car with a baby on my hip, his bag, my bag, my drink and my snack. We made it to the car ON TIME! But I don't dare look in the mirror of the fear of what my hair may look like. I'm going to church, they don't judge there, right?! 

This nonsense gets me frazzled. So when my son asks me something during those times, I snip at him. 

Then I close my eyes, take a deep breathe, say to myself "Lord, help this not matter...", then apologize to my son and vow to not let it happen again. At least for the remainder of the day. 

small goals, big change.

That crazy 30 minutes was just that... crazy, but not bad. Nothing bad happened. 

Nothing. Bad. Happened. Let's repeat that a few times.

I remember that the dog stealing "piderman" is a BIG deal to a two year old and he is coming to me for help. And while I did help him, I should be thankful for this opportunity to save "pidey" and make his a day a little better, even if that means that my day may be a little worse off.

We can be a few minutes late, we can show up with wet hair and no makeup, we can let the dishes sit in the sink for a little longer. We can. We can do hard things.