14 hours later we end with... a rushed dinner that nobody will eat, a little bit of raised voices there, dishes done by a protesting son, a little bit of raised voices there, calling everyone to family prayer, voices even louder, teeth brushed with lots of loud encouragement, reading time which falls apart quickly to a lot of boys wrestling and me raising my voice. loudly. It all ends with someone coming out of their room to ask to go to the bathroom or get a drink and I completely lose it! You would think that they were coming out to ask me if they could shave their head and tattoo a girls name on their skinny little bicep by the way I overreact.
For the last several nights I have had a little light of peace in this chaos that gives me so much joy I can hardly contain myself. It is this...
You see for this little boys lifetime I have helped him say his prayers. Well he is getting older and a few days ago he told me he could say it all alone so I let him, and folks, I will never help him again. Here is the prayer. Keep in mind I did not help him at all.
"Heavenly Father. Grateful for my blessings. Grateful that I love Mom. Grateful she is my love. Grateful she is my princess. Grateful she is my sweetie. Grateful she loves me. Grateful I love Heavenly Father. Grateful I love Jesus. Jesus Christ Amen."
The question is this is it strange that I have him say his prayers several times a day?