Typically I'm the type that cannot relax until the house is clean. Once the kids are in bed, I go into "tidy mode" and whirlwind around getting everything in place before I can think about doing anything else. Very rarely do I go to bed with any dishes in the sink. Last night was one of those nights. With Brad out of town (he took Finn with him to Ohio), yesterday was crazy running around preparing for the ward party that I was in charge of (with my friend, Christy). Galla and Paisley both really wanted my attention but were troopers as we ran errands, cooked, set-up, orchestrated, and cleaned up for the party (which was a success, I might add). When we finally got home way past bedtime, I put my little lovies to bed and crashed myself. Yes, with sauce-stained dishes in the sink (and on the stove and on the counter). Also, when we got up this morning there was not time to take care of the dishes before church. And when we got home, wouldn't you know it, those dishes hadn't budged a bit. Funny how that works. As I stared at those dishes waiting patiently to be washed, I thought I could take a lesson from them. Daily I pray for patience with my children. As a SAHM, I struggle with keeping my cool when I repeat the same demands multiple times a day: "don't throw your milk," "keep the door open," "don't put your fingers in Paisley's mouth"--you get the idea. I know that being more patient would make me a better mom. If only I could be more like a dirty dish.