Patience IS a virtue.

I know I haven't blogged in awhile but now that I am home from my trip I hope to soon post some new blogs. With pictures even--imagine that.

For now I just have to write myself a journal entry. I recognize others will read this and be like, "woah, she needs to be more laid back." But for me this was a good learning experience and I would like to remember it. I have never claimed to be on the level of all the other wonderful, patient mothers out there. But I have strived to become more so. Therefore, I am taking the time to write a journal entry to myself.

We arrived home from Iowa yesterday and I was eager for some rest and down time after the 5 hour trip in the car with my kids. However, we hadn't been home more than 10 minutes when Claire calls for me.

I go upstairs and she gives me the T-sign. The T-sign is the sign our children make if they want to tell us something but worried we'll get mad. When they do this, we've promised no matter what it is, we won't get mad. We hope this will carry into later years so they feel they can truly talk to us about anything and not worry we'll overreact, etc.

Anyway, I went into the bathroom and saw the towel rack hanging off the wall. And it's not just loose either, the end of it had dry wall chunks on it and there's a nice hole in my wall.

I did some mental counting and am glad Claire showed me the T-sign because I would have been really upset otherwise. I didn't have to ask, I knew exactly what had happened. I looked at her and said, "You used this as a gymnastic bar, didn't you?" "Yes." I asked her to please go sit on her bed. I understood she hadn't meant to do it. I understood she felt bad about it. Still, I was frustrated because we have told her time and time and time and time again that she cannot use anything in the house as gymnastics equipment because it will break and/or she'll get hurt.

I went and talked to her and told her I was glad she was honest and came and got me instead of trying to cover it up (though I'm not sure it would have been possible to do). I pointed out this is why we've asked her not to do gymanstics on things in our house. I emphasized that nothing in our place is strong enough to hold her weight while she swings from it. I then said that I thought when she came home from school we should walk up to the apartment center and she should tell them what happened and ask what they would like her to do. I explained if they wanted to charge us to fix it she should probably pay for it with her money.

Later she said to me that she felt I had still gotten mad at her even though she used the T-sign. So I asked her about it. It is vitally important to us our children don't feel this way since we have promised them. They have to be able to trust us. I asked her to carefully think about everything that happened. I asked her if I had yelled. No. Did I scream and shout and throw things about? No. Did I ground her until she was 18? No. Did I calmly ask her to sit on her bed until I got there? Yes.

I then explained that I wasn't happy about the hole in my wall and so I didn't walk around laughing and smiling about it. I went on to remind her that even though we do the sign, it does not protect us from taking responsibility for our mistakes. The rule we have is that if you have been told more than once not to step on, jump on, hang on, swing on, or throw something and you do and it breaks, you're responsible for replacing it or helping to replace it. These are called consequences of our actions and they're not always pleasant. As we talked it through, Claire realized I hadn't gotten mad at her but I was still requiring her to be responsible and that I was irritated about having to clean up the mess, but not mad at her.

I then took off to the library to pick up a book that was on hold for me. Nothing like a quiet drive to forget about the gaping hole in your wall. :) I get home from the library and go upstairs where I hear Jeremiah calling softly for me. I get to the bathroom door and about pass out. My son, who is sick, had had diarrhea all over the bathroom floor. I'm sorry to be gross, but so it was.

Now, I hadn't been feeling well. I was tired. My head was hurting. I didn't want to deal with this. I felt like screaming but I just stood there looking and quickly processing how to handle this. It was obvious this was not something my son had done on purpose. It was obvious he had made an effort to get to the bathroom. I knew I was feeling this way because I was tired, and sick, and totally grossed out. But those emotions had nothing to do with my son and needed to be left out of how I proceeded next. So I started cleaning and started thinking about how to put a positive spin on all of this so that no one felt bad.

I called for Stuart and Jeremiah said, "Don't tell Daddy, he'll be mad I pooped on the floor." I asked Jeremiah, "Did you do this on purpose?" "No." "Then he won't be mad." "But Daddy doesn't like poop." "No he doesn't. But he'll understand."

Then Stuart came by and asked in a level voice, "What happened here?" I was going to answer for Jeremiah but he beat me and said, "I had diarrhea all over the floor." Stuart then asked, "Are you ok?" "Yes." Jeremiah responded. Then asked, "You're not mad?" "No. We all have accidents once in awhile. I'm very glad you tried to run to the bathroom. That's a really good thing. We don't want this to happen every day, but when you're sick, sometimes this happens." "I won't do it every day Dad." "I know son."

So Stuart and Claire became my gophers--running to get things I needed-- as I bleached everything twice and showered my son. I pointed out everything good Jeremiah did in the situation. He ran to the bathroom and got it on the floor. "Yeah, because we can't get it out of the carpet!" He said. I said I really loved how he stayed in the bathroom too and didn't try to come out and get us. Anything I could find that was positive I said. I realized by doing this I was not only helping my son feel better about something he felt bad about, but I could see that this was just an annoying situation and how glad I was I hadn't freaked out about it.

I also reminded myself that patience is never learned when life is quiet. Patience is learned when your kids put holes in your walls and poop all over your bathroom floor. It's how we handle situations like these that determines if we develop patience. So while I don't wish for these situations, I am glad that on this occasion I chose to develop my patience rather than lose it. So I'm giving myself a gold star and considering it a good night.