The other day was just one of those days.  We woke up to rain, so our outdoor playdate with my friend Michele and her son Zach was cancelled.  I decided to take the kids to a library across town (just for a change of scenery), but we got there nearly an hour before it opened.  When we finally got in to the library, I realized I had the pass to the Children’s Museum and not my library card.  Oh, and at some point the kids hid the garage door opener.

And, to top it all off, when we got home Mack wriggled free while I was changing his diaper, and in the 18 seconds he was out of my sight he managed to poop on the carpet and rub it in with a toothbrush he stole from the bathroom. Ick!

At that moment, it was more than I could bear.  The kids were crabby, we were only halfway through a long, rainy day and here I was, crouched on my knees scrubbing baby poop.  Overwhelmed and exhausted, I started to cry.

Just then, Evie came in to the room.  My tears concerned her.  She walked up to me, rubbed my arm and sweetly said, “Don’t cry, Mom. Just be strong.  Just be strong and brave.”  Then she kissed the top of my head. My tears gave way to a smile.

In that singular moment when I had been feeling like I was doing everything wrong, my almost three year-old showed me that I am actually doing a lot of things right.  Evie’s kindness towards me was exactly how I treat her when she is sad.  She used my words and actions to console me.  She has grown into a patient and considerate little girl, and I couldn’t feel more proud!

And so as Evie glides towards the big girl stage in life, Mack stomps towards his terrible twos.  Proof that God doesn’t give us more than we can bear!