It's no secret, winter is beating us down. My least favorite thing about this long season is all the work it takes to get two kids out the door. Hats and gloves and zippers and boots... they are all making me lose my mind... and my patience on a daily basis.
On one particular morning I was corralling my children and wrestling my son while trying to get his arms into the sleeves of his coat, only to turn around and find that Lakin had removed the snow pants, boots and socks I'd just sweat through my t-shirt to put her in. Aaaaaand I got a little snippy in my tone when asking her to put her socks and boots back on before I threw my hands up in surrender and laid on the floor in defeat. (I don't know where my children get their dramatic tendencies.)
Twenty minutes and some tears later we were buckled in the car and on our way to our destination. From the backseat Lakin interjects:
Lakin: Mom, I did not like your words this morning. They were not nice. Why were you so mad talking?
Me: You are right, I was frustrated. Sometimes I struggle to have patience when I have to repeatedly ask you to do the same thing.
Lakin: But you were mean about it.
Me: I'm sorry, you're right I shouldn't have spoken with anger.
Lakin: It's okay. I am giving you grace.
Me: Grace. What does that mean?
Lakin: It means you do something and I say it's okay and its like you never did it.
Surprised by her understanding of a pretty cool and complex concept.
Me: Thanks. I appreciate how quickly you always give me grace.
Lakin: Yeah. You need lots of it. Especially when you yell, "No, no no," all the time. (Which, for the record, my yelling is usually not just limited to "No, no, no." I feel misrepresented.)
Every car ride since Lakin reminds me that she offered grace that time I yelled and lost my cool. We then discussed how grace keeps no record and does not continue to bring up old offenses. To which Lakin nods her head and reminds me yet again of her grace giving ways. Children can be so humbling.
Last night Lakin was jumping all over the furniture upstairs and after repeatedly asking her to stop she fell and banged her knee. All my tenderness and empathy reminded her of how I'd asked her half a dozen times earlier to quit being a monkey all over the sofa and through tears she said, "YOU HAVE TO SHOW ME GRACE!" Apparently we still have some understanding to gain on the concept.