We had a rough morning.

It started out great, I was up a full hour before the kiddos, an event that doesn’t happen very often around here lately. Showered, clothed and coffee in hand I was able to fit in my devotional and catch up on jotting down some of my 1000 Things.

But somewhere between coffee and pre-school drop-off we went awry.  Three breakfasts were made for two very unappreciative young boys.  Three.  Each.  Yogurt?  No.  Oatmeal?  No.  Waffles?  Toast?  OK.

How do you teach young people that they have so much?

“My oatmeal is too sweet,” says the 4-year-old who just shook a bazillion colored sprinkles onto an already sweetened bowl of slow-cooked, organic steel cut oats.  Sprinkles on oatmeal is a trend I begrudgingly started when I started forcing my children to eat homemade oatmeal and took away the crap they sell in packets.  You pick your battles I guess.

“I wanted jelly on my toast,” whined the 3-year-old who had 2 bites left of his $4-a-loaf Cinnamon Raisin Ezekiel bread, smeared in grass-fed butter and sprinkled with organic sugar and cinnamon.  Now ya tell me?

All the while, Loli is smacking spoonfuls of homemade apple plum sauce, gifted to us by a neighbor, onto her plastic-covered bib.

It’s like Goldilocks over here.  Gee whiz, can’t we all just appreciate what we have?

So this morning ended up with us, sitting around the table, watching YouTube videos of starving children in Africa.  They don’t get it.  How can they, these sweet, little, chubby toddlers, with too many clothes, too many shoes, too many blankets, too many choices?  How can I teach them they are so ridiculously blessed?

So after the depressing mini-movie marathon, the 3-year-old proceeds to kick his baby sister because I took the Halloween-size pack of Raisinets out of his lunch box.  A penance for not finishing his 2 minuscule bites of toast.  The yelling, time out and pouting that ensued were epic.

Now with only five minutes to get shoes, jackets, backpacks, lunch boxes, blankies and head to school, we were all worn a bit thin.

Tears at drop-off for the little guy.  Tears at home for Mama for feeling defeated and a failure at this thing that should be easy.  Why is it a struggle to feed, clothe and prep three small children for school?  And as I pick myself up off the floor (I was down there picking up the bazillion Tupperware lids Loli had slid under the kitchen cabinets) I heard God whisper, “My grace is sufficient for you.”

Lord, teach me to teach my kids to be in awe of all that You have given us as you remind me of that fact as well.  Help me show my kids that life is more than which shirt fits perfectly, which TV show they want to watch and who gets candy after supper.  All the while teach me that the children, albeit spoiled, that sit before me are my gifts and I should be appreciative of all that I have.