Need. More. Patience.

Just for the record, being a mom takes every last ounce of patience I possess.

And then on days like this, I just don't have enough.

He's filling his hands with dish soap from the dispenser at the sink, then climbing down off the couch, leaving soapy hand prints. He refuses to climb out of the ________ {what do you call those things at the grocery store where the kids ride with steering wheels?} while the bagger/helper dude waits to take the thing back to the store. He takes FOREVER getting in his car seat, double-forever putting his seat belt on, and then has to go pee and we're so so late to gymnastics. Again.

Mommy lectures about being on time, being respectful, listening to directions. AGAIN.

It was fun the first time -- you know, the rosy feeling that you're patient and being a great mom, explaining all these life skills to your children. But the second, third and fiftieth time?

I'm ready to graduate them.

Do you HAVE to fight bath time every day? Will there always be difficult nights when you keep us awake for three hours? Will crusted food be a permanent part of the backs of my chairs?

Modeling patience so they will also be patient has got to be one of the hardest things I'll face. Sure feels like it today.

Time to name some gifts. =}

--One Thousand Gifts--
43. Brave little boy climbers with very proud smiles
44. Friends with knowing smiles
45. Gently blowing breezes, bringing scent of lilac
46. Purple flowing trees
47. The muted ice cream truck tune