A Clean House and an Epiphany

Being a mother is hard work.  Anyone with kids can tell you that it's the hardest job there is.
I have been cleaning the house today and grumbling the whole time.  Is it SO HARD to put your socks in the dirty laundry when you take them off?  Is it necessary to walk out of your jeans with the underwear still in them, leaving them there waiting, like you're going to jump back in them in case of an emergency? How hard is it to turn the water ON when you're spitting toothpaste in the sink? And is it really such a stretch to throw the empty toilet paper roll into the garbage can as opposed to tossing it on the floor?
And then let's just say a word or two about fighting...because I might as well erect a boxing ring.  Savannah is grouchy and being snippy at everyone.  Dylan's voice is changing, and he's slightly sleep deprived, so he is crackling at everyone and can't take a joke.  Colby has a slow simmering fuse because of Braden's screaming that has him about ready to blow...one wrong word and he will bite your head off (just ask Savannah).  And Braden won't stop screaming....which may just be the reason everyone else is so on edge.
About a week ago I hit my breaking point with Braden and all his screaming.  First, I must describe this screaming...because if you haven't actually heard it, you really have no idea what it's all about.  Braden screams for no reason and every reason.  It isn't crying like a baby would do, it's actual bonafide scream-at-the-top-of-your-lungs-breaking-glass-I'm-being-murdered screaming.  I actually feel really sorry for him, because he doesn't know how to express himself any other way...and like I said, sometimes the screaming is happy and sometimes it's not (and believe it or not, when you hear enough of it you can tell the difference)...but it doesn't make me hate the screaming any less.  It's really taxing on the entire family because it never stops....sometimes he's even screaming during the night (and my poor boys have to share a room with him right now). So anyway...
The other day I am moving him from his feeding chair to his wheelchair to get him ready to go to school and he is screaming right in my face (not the happy kind--the mad kind) and I am ready to pull my hair out.  I'm hitting the point of desperation...and, since I had been ironing (no, this is not a tall tale), there sits my spray bottle...right there on the table...and I think "it works on the cats...maybe..."...and I pick it up and give him one quick shot...right to the face.  He stopped screaming.  Then his lower lip rolled waaaayy out in that pouty sort of way that little kids do, and he started CRYING!  I felt like SUCH A JERK!  I HURT HIS FEELINGS!  What kind of mother does such a thing?!  Savannah was sitting right there and she looked at me like I was a monster.  Seriously.  Maybe I am.  (I know he can't understand me, but I apologized...and said a few heartfelt prayers of repentance...)
Which leads me to this afternoon....You'd think after all the cleaning and grumbling I would be grouchy but I actually had something of an epiphany when I was all done...and I felt grateful for my family. Savannah was very helpful and fun to have around this morning as the two of us worked together, and nothing beats having a clean house. I also realized that if suddenly they were gone, I would miss the socks on the floor, the toothpaste in the sink and Dylan's crackling man voice as he gets mad at anyone for making a joke at his expense.  (I still don't think I would miss the screaming...but you never know.)  I'm also EXTREMELY grateful for the opportunity I have to stay home and run the household and raise my kids...and thankful for a husband that works hard to make it possible (I might miss his snoring...but again, I don't think I would miss the screaming.) So now I am lucky....I have a clean house AND I'm in a good mood... And I promise I will never spray Braden in the face again.