I was once involved with someone who sincerely believed that the greatest sin was ingratitude. He would wax poetic about how all the evils of the world could be traced back to this. At the time, it seemed a little extreme. But I am starting to see some merit to his argument.
Lately, it seems like my role in the great family dynamic has deteriorated to something like a glorified housekeeper. This all came to a head this evening. There is something about being surrounded by three egocentric young children that can either be heartwarming and gratifying or soul-numbing and exhausting, depending on the day...
Today--it was exhausting.
There were the reminders to pick up their rooms, the cajoling to get them to eat their dinner, then the threats to get them to clean their room and, finally, out came the big black garbage bag...the sign that mom had reached her limit.
A bag of lost treasures later, all is quiet (at least for the moment).
They are all still in there...cleaning...(and now wailing)...lamenting the loss of a favorite toy. And it would probably be just a bit overwhelming at this point. Except that my middle child just meandered in.
"There you are," she said, as if she had been searching all over for me, "I just wanted to give you this..." she said before planting a kiss firmly on my cheek and wandering back to her room.
So the pendulum swings back...gratitude.
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