You Know It Happens At Your House Too

I’m currently sitting at my dining room table.  It’s April 29, 2017 … and it’s snowing.  This irony is not lost on me.  Because last I checked, Spring had supposedly sprung just over 40 days ago.  But, since it’s a relatively obscure day on the calendar, I figure it’s as good a day as any to be a little transparent.  In part, because of snow 40 days into Spring.

Click on the picture...you can see the huge snow flakes.

I think I’ve used the phrase in previous posts about longing for the end to be in sight… I suppose it goes hand-in-hand with the loathsome “Are we there yet?”  And, it stands to reason that when you’re not there yet, the lagging journey is what your heart tends to fixate on.  This is true in both circumstance and stage of life. 

Maybe it’s the whole 40-days-into-Spring thing, but my feeling is that we should definitely already be there…

Parenthood. 

You know it happens at your house too.  And if you say it doesn’t, then you’re either lying or a saint.  Because 3-y/o’s should know stuff and you shouldn’t have to say sentences like you shouldn’t stick things in places you can’t get them out of.

And then there are routine conversations like this…

3-y/o: I went potty. 

Me: Number one or number two?

3-y/o: (enthusiastically) Number 7!!!
           (***runs off playing with the car he’s holding***)

Or this…

What I Say: Eat the whole thing.

What They Hear: Eat the whole in one big bite.  Gag. Spit it out.  Cough a bunch.  End of dinner.  Go play with bulldozers and dolls.

And then there's this…when either kid asks for Caillou for the one-thousand, three-hundred, thirty-seventh time:

Me: Caillou lives on the east coast, so it’s already late where he is.  He's in bed.

Or when your Little One argues with you that it's "crinkle, crinkle little star" instead of twinkle twinkle little star...

Or when your 3-y/o tries to tell a joke… (CLICK TO PLAY THE VIDEO):

Or when you’re trying to document the making of memories in family pictures and there's always one rebel...

What would make me a hero to my kids?  Letting them eat ketchup for dinner while throwing banana peels across the table at each other. 

People tell you parenthood is amazing.  And it is.  But it’s also paying jillion’s out of pocket in medical insurance…springing for the “silver plan” knowing both kids are more than a little accident prone. 

People tell you that children spell love, T-I-M-E.  Yes!  Absolutely they do.  But if you’re not prepared to spend upwards of ¼ of your day watching this, then you aren’t ready to be a parent.

People tell you sweet stories of what their kids say followed by #BeStillMyHeart.  Sure, my kids say sweet things that I’ll cherish…but more often than not, the biggest compliment in my day is hey, hey, hey mom…I like your band aid!

Sometimes, parenthood isn’t all compliments; instead, the bulk of it is made up of really thoughtful, parenting-gold catchphrases you coin yourself. 

Things that are really instructional, like:

Stop dragging your face on the ground.

And things that are super helpful, like:

What made you think that was a good idea?

And finally, things that are really motivational, like:

Dry it up!

People tell you that you’ll miss this when they’re older.  Probably.  But right now, I categorize parenthood into two stages: having children and having children who can reach things on countertops.  Nothing can quite prepare you for the second one.

And yet, I get it.  I get the whole you’ll miss this when they’re older business. 

I just recently sat down to fill out a pre-school registration form.  Which made feelings puddle into tears that were leaking down my face.   Until this…

What’s one word you would use to describe your child?

(This stopped the feelings free-flowing as I wondered to myself whether this was a trick question.)

MERCILESS.

Uhh…no.  Can’t have that.  MERCILESS.

RELENTLESS…???? 

Still no.  RELENTLESS.

Aha!  DETERMINED! Ahh yes, there it is!

It’s a short rope from being a sane momma to being one of the nutty ones. 

Just this week, I played two Nationwide commercials on repeat because ONE, they were awesome commercials, and TWO, they had that reminiscent, nostalgic feeling.  Also, I might just buy Nationwide Insurance if they can get my kids to bed on time...  Anyway, I think I wore my heart on my sleeve all week…

But for real, y’all.  Thursday.  THURSDAY we were at gymnastics.  And what I’m about to tell you is the truth…and it happens often.  At soccer games.  At gymnastics.  At Memaw’s.  Everywhere.  You can ask our people.  Our people know.  Anyway…Thursday.

The moms were sitting just behind the yellow-tape line.  They were chatting.  I was keeping up with the Little One; the 3-y/o with his gym class.  It’s rare when the reverberating sound of that gym falls silent.  But it happens.  And Thursday was one of those times.  In the quiet lull, my merciless, relentless, determined 3-y/o scooped his hand lightly by the right side of his cheek.  I LOVE YOU, MOM! …

All the other moms let out a unanimous, adoring sigh.  THAT.  That is the sweet love of my 3-y/o.

Coming full circle, when the rest of the journey is only what your eyes seem to see, can it be, instead, that we learn to see based on what the heart feels?  At least in parenting???  In the moment?  Sure, it isn’t easy.  I haven’t gone to the bathroom alone in a solid three years…  But instead of longing for the end to be in sight...?  I don’t really want them to rush to grow up.  Because the fact that they’re like little tiny humans is already heartbreaking enough. And time doesn’t stop.  If you’re not paying attention, those moments…these moments…are gone. 

From the Fullness of His Grace,

Lacey