In the past week, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to my jammies and sheets drenched in sweat.
This fondly reminds me of my early postpartum days when I would perspire profusely every evening as my hormones aspired to find a new normal.
I’ve always been a heater at night. I must, however, have a blanket to snuggle with. Which means the AC needs to be adjusted to a cool temperature before cocooning myself and drifting off to dreamland.
Ah, the beauty of a thermostat. With just a few buttons, you can create the temperature your heart (or hormones) desire.
A thermometer is also a helpful tool, especially when our little ones are sick. A thermometer simply reads and communicates the current temperature in the room or person.
A thermostat, however, can be adjusted. Levels of hotness or coolness are changed based on what is needed in the current environment.
Let’s look at this real life scenario:
It’s 4:45 pm. Both my kids have eaten dinner. Most days I’m scrambling to put somthing simple together or serving leftovers for the third time. Our house has toys strewn over every square inch (or so it seems), the ground is covered with quinoa and whatever else we had for dinner (have you ever noticed how quinoa gets in every nook and cranny on a baby’s little body?), and it’s time to give the kiddos a quick bath before taking the family car to go pick up daddy from work so we can come home and they can bond for about 18 minutes with Daddy before brushing teeth, reading stories, and tucking them in bed. Oh, and all this needs to happen before 6:30 to prevent anyone getting overtired and missing that precious small window of oppurtune time to fall asleep.
My firstborn child starts to melt down at a rapid speed and high volume. My second born proceeds to throw herself back in the bathtub because she deeply desires to touch everything with her sticky dinner hands before you rinse her off AND doesn’t want the drain to be plugged in because where would the fun (or bath water) be in that?
Some days, I’m a mothermometer. Some days I give into the current temperature and allow the chaos to effect how I discipline, respond, and interact with my kiddos. My volume matches the volume of the firstborn and I’m throwing myself backwards mentally in my head.
Other days, I’m a mothermostat. Those days I choose to pause and ask for some much needed help from Jesus. When I rely on His strength in the midst of my weakness, I am able to contribute and change the current atmosphere in my home.
Despite the outward chaos, that sweet peace that passes all understanding rises up and words are spoken calmly.
What are you, Mama? A mothermometer or a mothermostat?