There are days...

There are days when Bailey can be so super sweet: she wants to hug and kiss all over us, she laughs and talks a lot, she is content watching Barney and shuffling cards. The gleam in her eye is breath taking, her smile is addictive and her quirks are so silly and innocent.

Then there are days like today....

Days when, no matter what we try, nothing makes her happy. She is in attack mode all day. She screams about everything. Nothing pleases her.

The whole house tries so hard to satisfy her. The other kids put their wants on hold in order to help make her happier. They suffer the scratches and kicks that her outbursts bring. It's like the whole day is spent on her.... in vain. We all look tired and give out. I know personally days like today make me tired....tired physically (as i have given her 2 baths today) and tired mentally (as the non stop...seriously, non stop...screaming goes unappeased)

It takes all we have some days to make it with our sanity. I take small reprieves in the bathroom...in other words, I hide there for five minutes at a time. It is there that I pray. It is there that I seek wisdom from God on how to deal with the stress that she brings at times without becoming resentful and having bad feelings toward her. It is there that I take a moment to let out a few tears, as I do not want to show vulnerability...I have to be strong, I have to 'man up' and just 'deal with it'.

Here in this small room is where I come face to face with my fears...
will I ever know a time that I do not have to help her onto the potty?
will I ever eat a meal without having to feed her as well?
will I ever just say good-night to her and she puts herself to bed?
will I always have to get myself and her dressed each day?
will I always have to make sure her teeth are brushed and hair is combed?

Am I being selfish??? Yes, and I know that. But these are things that enter into my mind on days like this, these days when I feel that I am spent, that there is no more compassion left inside of me, that all of my attempts at making her life better are shattering into a million pieces, when I feel that there is no way for me to break that wall, that barrier that separates me from her own little world.

And these are the times that, once she is put to bed and I reflect on the day and how exhausted I am and how it seems that my future only holds more and more of these same days, that I remember that God gave her to me (and Michael) and that her very life is in our hands. I am then reminded that I have no time for self pity and pouty lips. I repent and ask for a special measure of grace and for the next day to be better, and if it isn't then for extra grace and love and compassion and patience. All because I know that...

There are days