I yelled at the top of my lungs. My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to come out of my chest. "I made Disney Land, here's your ticket!" she said in her sweet matter-of-fact little voice as she handed me a Disney Princess playing card.
Nora had colored all over the family room wall. Now that will need to be repainted as well as the other places she's scribbled on my new house with the non latex-impossible-to- scrub paint.
I could feel the veins in my neck popping out. I am proud to say that I have never spanked my children but at this moment I was using every ounce of will power I had not to swat that bony little booty.
"NORA! ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO COLOR ON THE WALLS?!!" I yelled at her again this time kneeling down to look her in the eye. She looked at me and I saw her eyes get big and wide. I didn't have to say anything else, she burst into tears and ran up to her room closing the door behind her. I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and nearly burst into tears myself. I had a headache.
The baby monitor in the corner of the family room started to crackle and I heard a little sobbing voice say, "Heavenly Father, (sob) please make my mom (sob) that she can be nice (sob)." And she kept repeating it over and over.
The following thoughts and emotions then ran through my head in no particular order and some at the same time:
- "You better pray to make me nice you little...."
- Pride, "I taught that child how to pray and this is a very appropriate situation to be asking for divine help"
- Guilt. I felt like a monster.
- and I even let out a giggle, come on you have to admit it's kind of cute and funny.
The moral of this story is that God does answer prayers, I believe that I am now the nicest mommy ever! Except of course when I don't let her have a Popsicle for dinner....
