Self-talk

I’m no perfect mama. I forgot to put the baby down for her nap, I didn’t serve lunch until 2:00, and there were pee-paw prints across my tile floor because I didn’t put a diaper on someone. And that’s just since noon. 

Nope. Not perfect. So when I do get something right, I have to share it, if for no other reason than to get credit and somehow balance out the oopsies.

When things get crazy in our house I use age-appropriate time outs. Two minutes for the two year-old. Five minutes for the five year-old. And after 34 minutes, I’m usually back to my right mind.

Despite being familiar with the consequence, today you gave me the “who-are-you” stare when I threatened one. We were sitting at the craft table painting when you surprised me with some pretty bad self-talk. You said it softly to yourself, as if commenting on the weather. I abruptly responded in my gritted-teeth mommy voice, “Say that again and you’ll go to time-out.”

You:    Why mom?

Me:     (think Mama think)  Can you talk like that to your brother?

You:    No

Me:    (think, think think) Are you a child of God?

You:    Yes

Me:    Can you talk like that to any of God’s children?

You:    No.

End of conversation. End of bad self-talk. Good mommy. I could have high-fived myself or maybe even done a touchdown dance.

Mimi… you were blessed, chosen, adopted, accepted, redeemed and forgiven (Ephesians ch 1). Your brother may walk across the floor without a diaper, but none of you will walk down that road of negative self-image, not if I can prevent it.