Mrs. Jekyll and Mommy Hyde

by admin

Mrs. Jekyll and Mommy Hyde

I emerged today from a brief shopping trip to our local discount store with my two youngest children. I don’t know if it was the crisp January breeze or the promise of that elusive sun beginning to peek out from some clouds, but it occurred to me how great the day had been. I realized that I had calmly managed to get all three children out to the car for the quarter-mile drive to the bus stop earlier this morning, serenely prepared a dish to deliver to our monthly recipe club, and patiently gotten through a store that normally reduces my children to little beggars and turns me into a raging monster.   

These are the good days, the days when I can’t keep my hands away from my girls’ rosy cheeks or my boy’s close-cropped hair and I feel so proud and grateful to be their mother. I love these days. These are how my daydreams of motherhood looked. Once, during one of these cherished moments, I was driving to a park on a gorgeous day with my toddler in the back. I could not resist the urge to call my husband, who was at work, to let him know how much I appreciated his sacrifice to our family so that I had the freedom to stay at home with our children.  

Regrettably, all too often, there is another kind of day: a day when I seem to wake up screaming and continue to be loud, irritable, impatient, and unsympathetic with my three cherubic little angels. In all fairness, children have their good days and bad as well, and though I must take responsibility for any inappropriate behavior or poor examples that I may exhibit, children certainly know how to push the limits of faith and goodwill.  

While I would like to discover a potion that would enable me to be rid of Mommy Hyde forever, I would like to offer a toast to Mrs. Jekyll. May she always be able to awaken to the coaxing of her little ones at the crack of dawn with a smile on her face; may her endeavors to prepare an endless parade of breakfast, lunch, snacks, and dinner fill her with a bountiful joy; may the sight of a mountain of laundry inspire her to give thanks for her many blessings; and may she always remember the expressions on the faces of her progeny as they gaze at her with absolute trust and unconditional love.