This page may contain affiliate links. View my disclosures page for more information.

In September 2015 I began attending a MOPS (Mothers of Pre Schoolers) group near my house. It was hosted by a local church, but not the church we called home. I attended for about a year (well, 2 semesters), but in May 2016 when the year ended, the leader stepped down and a new leader could not be found (and MOPS appeared to have taken several steps away from their roots as a gospel-centered ministry), and the ministry at that church disbanded. It was then that I began to realize I couldn’t possibly be the only mom at my church who felt the need for this vital ministry and fellowship.

The other night I had dinner with the sweetest couple whose son was stillborn in August. Their desire to show compassion to others, their new outlook on life in spite of their grief, and their growing love for each other were inspiring. My heart was heavy, yet full. I cried when I stood in his nursery, complete but never used for its intended purpose.

They are living my nightmare, yet they are more than surviving. They are healing, at their exact right pace, and they are doing it with grace. I intended to bless them with a meal and friendship, and in their tragedy, they ministered to me. Grief is funny that way.

Toddlers are hard. Parenting is hard. God’s mercies are new every morning. Here’s my Thursday: the hard edition.

I desperately want to be the mom who doesn’t need to yell and can keep her composure in the throes of a toddler tantrum. I so want to be the mom who can manage her toddler in such a way that she doesn’t have meltdowns. I let anger and frustration be my driving forces today and look—this sad face was the result! We had a really really really rough and tough start to our day today. . Temper tantrums, tardiness, hurt feelings, reflux, and barf (one caused by reflux, the other caused by the epic tantrum) that resulted in me missing an appointment I really needed. I thought only of myself today and what I needed, and in doing so I failed to give my girls the gentle attention they needed. . I hate the messy days, when I fail to parent with grace and respond with mercy, and instead react out of anger, frustration, and then try to blame it all on no sleep (which was my fault, and no one else’s). . Today was just another hard reminder that my sweet girls need me to bring them to God, not try to “be a good mom” (as if I’m capable of that on my own abilities anyway—ha! If I were, days like today wouldn’t happen). . These children are such a precious gift from above and I want to raise them right. Some days I really wonder if I’m truly up for the task—thankfully I’m not meant to do it alone, and even more thankfully, I don’t have to. Today was another reminder that I need Jesus. He is enough, El Shaddai, the all sufficient nourisher of my soul. . His mercies are new every morning and I’m so thankful for a successful nap time. Tomorrow is another day. I am sorry for my shortcomings, and I pray they can forgive me. Lord, help me point them to You. . Everyone, please: learn from my mistakes. #dailyclaire #morenora #takingbackpostpartum #toddlerinchief #lifewithtwo #ig_motherhood #motherhoodunplugged #reallife #motherhoodthroughinstagram #momlife #momfail #terribletwos #threenager #jesustakethewheel

A post shared by cαιтℓιη ✿ wαℊηℯr (@caitielin34) on Oct 19, 2017 at 12:19pm PDT

My friend sent me this podcast episode last week from God Centered Mom. It came at just the right time, as I was recovering from weeks of guilt after traumatizing my toddler over a poop accident (that was mostly my fault to begin with).

“Grace never calls right wrong. If right were wrong there’d be no need for grace. The assumption of grace is that wrong is wrong and that’s why grace is needed.”

It helped me shift my perspective toward “responding” in situations verses “reacting.” Take a listen, and let me know what you think.