Today I am frustrated with my kids.
I’m frustrated that the doors are left wide open, that the floor somehow still isn’t swept, that my schedule, so carefully planned, is treated like an afterthought.
I’m tired. I’m busy. I’m responsible for so many moving pieces, and sometimes it feels like no one else even notices. It’s so easy to get swallowed up by that. The simmering annoyance, the silent mental tally of what I’m doing versus what they’re not.
But then I sat down, took a breath, and read the news.
27 families.
27 daughters at Camp Mystic in Texas, caught in a flash flood that arrived with no warning in the early hours. No time to plan. No time to call. No time for goodbye.
Some of those families may never hold their daughters again. They will never get to scold them about leaving the door open. They won’t get to nag about chores, or remind them of curfew, or argue about phones at dinner.
They will never see them in a prom dress. Never help pack them for college. Never hold their first grandchild.
Just gone.
It guts me to even type it. And here I am, eyes burning, because my floor is dirty and my schedule and feelings weren’t even considered. I’m not going to beat myself up for being human. Frustration is real. Parenting is so damn hard. But today, perspective hit me like a punch to the chest.
So I’m trying to hold both truths at once:
I can be frustrated about my messy house, my busy schedule, and my kids’ lack of responsibility.
I can also be deeply, painfully grateful that I get another day to remind them.
Another day to say “Please sweep the floor.”
Another day to roll my eyes and say “For the love of God, CLOSE THE DOOR.”
Another day to hug them.
Because some parents would give anything… anything… to have that one more day.
So today I’m going to take a deep breath.
And I’m going to choose grace.
For them.
For myself.
For all of us trying to love our kids the best we can while the world can change in an instant.
My heart is with those families in Texas. May they feel our collective heartbreak, and may we hold our children a little tighter today in their honor.