My kids can't dress themselves. Not even a little bit. There, I said it. Not even the 4 year old. Which is entirely my fault as a mother. Because I never let them try.
I'm pretty uptight about time. I get it from my Mom's side of the family. She jokes it's from her Germanic roots. It's awful to admit, but being even 1 minute late, sends me into a grumpy anxious sweaty rage. Our family always did things really efficiently growing up, like not even a second was wasted. My siblings and I joke now with our spouses, who have learned that when in the presence of Patterson's, it's best to be prompt. To this day I take silly pride in figuring out a logistical dilemma in the most efficient and effective way.
Which is why my kids can't dress themselves. If we have to leave the house at 8:30am, we begin getting dressed at 8:15. And, we all know 15 minutes isn't nearly enough time for a 4 year old to get dressed and get out of the house. So I dress them myself. Frantically, and impatiently, I tug on jeans and sweatshirts and socks and shoes so we can make our departure time. We typically arrive to wherever we're going with at least 5 minutes to spare, and then we drive around aimlessly, or just simply sit and wait. I promise I understand how silly this is.
Matthew came downstairs the other day like this, and I had to laugh. Turns out the poor kid, the THREE year old, could probably dress himself with just a smidge of "help" from me, if I'd just let him.
Most often when I pray, I pray for peace, patience, and positivity. These three things, my personal little mantra, encompass most of my struggles. Thankfully, there are so many ways to practice patience as a mother. I know I've gotten better, but there's still a ways to go. Allowing the kids to dress themselves has quickly shot to top of my "ways to practice patience" list. Progress report to follow.