To The Patron Saint of Toddlers

**I’m traveling again – this time to Portland, OR to record more episodes of The Visitation Project.  I’ve invited some of my favorite bloggers to fill in while I’m away. First up is Rosie Hill. Check her out over at A Blog for My Mom

We’ve had a rough lot of days lately. I can’t keep an eye on these kids 24 hours a day, and I think their guardian angels may need a little extra help, too. So Lord? Could you enlist your patron saint of toddlers to help us out with some prayers?

Lord, if they manage to find a marker, even though all of the markers have been removed from the house, please let it be a washable marker instead of a permanent one again?

And if they sit on the baby, please let it be on his back and not his head…

Please help me remember that their strong-willed tempers will keep them from caving into peer pressure when they’re older. Even though it’s what makes me contemplate day drinking every single morning.

If they’re going to pee on the floor, please let it be on the bathroom tile instead of the rug.

Jesus, I know everyone says the outdoors is nature’s bathroom… But if they’re going to pee in the grass, please make sure that the neighbors aren’t watching this time?

Please watch over them as they sleep tonight. And if you could help them go to sleep as soon as they’re in bed, and not two hours later after jumping in their cribs, taking off their diapers, shoving each other under the crib sheet, and smacking each other in the heads, that would be great.

Dear Lord please let that be food they just found on the floor and stuck in their mouths. And please let it be from some time recently, not from many weeks ago…

Thank you for letting me get the toilet paper out of the baby’s mouth before he swallowed it. And thank you for the fact that it was clean, not used.

Please please please please let that be chocolate on the floor, not poop.

Thank you for the fact that it was solid poop, not diarrhea.

Please don’t let them knock that glass off the – thank you that nobody stepped in broken glass.

God, please help them be good at Mass this time. And please, if they’re going to sing the Dinosaur Train theme song, let it be quietly so that nobody else notices?

Please don’t let them flood the bathroom again when I put the baby down for his nap…

Lord, please help me stay calm. And patient. And loving. Please help me stop yelling so much. And thank you for how quickly they (and You) forgive me every time I lose my temper.

Above all, please help me get these children to Heaven.

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