Better than I am

My kids make me a better person than I am. It's true. When I want to pout and sulk because I think things haven't gone my way,  I remember that I absolutely would not let my kids get away with that, and I snap out of it. When I want to yell and scream, and maybe even cuss, I remember that I would not want to hear those things coming out of my children's mouths, and I censor myself. And when I want to run away, crying, because I'm afraid--like I wanted to do today when Weston found a snake out by the garage that I needed to kill myself because Jeff wasn't here--I muster up some courage and I make myself appear brave, (even though my heart was beating wildly and my hands were shaking like crazy), because I want to be better than I am for my kids. I want to maintain a good example before them, so that they'll know how to behave. I'll admit, I do sometimes blow it. I yell and scream. I tremble and cry. And I even pout and sulk. But, before long, I ask myself the question I often ask my kids when I'm disciplining them, "What kind of person do you want to be?" They usually want to be a better person than they are being at the time, and so I say, "Choose to be that person." Thanks in great part to my children, I am learning to choose to be better than I am.