SO, I like to consider myself a woman of prayer. As I tucked my Joshua into bed for his nap this afternoon, we had been through the saga and process that takes five hours. (or so it feels)
drink, diaper change, books, tuck in, get bow-wow, tuck in again, my nose itches, my toe itches, tuck in again...and finally prayers. well today, he did not want to pray. OK fine i say. no prayers, i will pray for you. NOPE. That won't work either. OK. i leave the room fuming because I'm just trying to be that good, godly mommy that I'm supposed to be. i have this conversation with God for a little while and then i hear my boy screaming bloody murder from his room. i get up AGAIN, from my bible, and go to his room. Tears streaming down his face he states.."Mom. I want to pray now..." *sniff*
I look at him, still annoyed from our whole "get-to-bed-process" and I sternly say from the doorway where i stand.."THANK YOU JESUS FOR THIS DAY. AMEN."
*sigh* I am but a work in progress.
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