I had plans. They weren’t extravagant by any means, but they were plans, and they were mine.
I was going to sleep through the night, but your sweet little self needed to be nursed and cuddled at 11 pm, 3:15 am, and 5:30 am. I stayed up watching you long after as you found comfort and drifted off.
Not-So-Quiet Time: 6:oo am
And then I’d wake up around 6 am, sip coffee and spend peaceful time in God’s Word. Instead, your growing-too-fast feet came skipping in to be smooched and loved on. Peaceful what’s peaceful? We drew pictures, built castles, and ate Poptarts for breakfast. You told me that I was your “best friend ever.”
(Lack of) Shower: 7:00 am
Of course, there was the hot shower I was going to take. The hot water would pelt my back with amazing masseuse-like force. I would leave the bathroom clean, teeth brushed, and hair combed. You insisted we take a bubble bath together. I’m not sure I got clean, but the floor sure did.
(Un)Productive Writing Time at the Park: 9:30 am
Once freshly showered we’d walk to the park, I would sit on the blanket with you, sweet girl, and you, my wild son, would run your heart out. I had plans of bringing my Bible and notebook, and I’d sit there in the shade outlining my next few posts. Except you got to the top of the slide and yelled, “Play with me, Momma!” “I need you, Momma!” “Where are you, Momma?” So we played, and the pages remained blank. But I was “Ninja Warrior Momma” and you were “Super Simon.” And we laughed until our tummies ached.
Guaranteed Pity Party of 1
And so it went. All the plans I made were quickly squashed by your whims and needs. But I knew I could plan something that there was no way you could take away from me. I was going to have my very own pity party. It would be quite easy. I mean NOTHING I planned got done today.
What about me and my goals and dreams and purpose? Aren’t I more than just the child feeder, entertainer, comforter, butt wiper? Ugh, I’m such a selfish waste-of-space. You deserve better, sweet children. Yes, pity party was in full swing.
I had every intention to have it out with myself. And then you went and ruined that plan, too.
The Best Part of My Day
You with your big hugs and smooches and “I love you, Momma’s.” And you, sweet girl, with your giggles and the way you call me “Bob-bob.”
You and your unintended reminders of sweet grace and mercy. My darling little loves, you bring me to the end of myself daily.
You humble me. You remind me that His paths are not my own and my understanding is sorely lacking.
You strengthen me. I have become more than I ever thought possible by how you stretch me to love more and forgive more and laugh more.
You love me—impatience and all. I have always known that I would love you unconditionally, but my heart aches at the love and trust in your eyes. It makes me want to be a better momma.
And, sweet loves, in case you didn’t know, your interruptions undoubtedly become the best parts of my days. Well, most of them do.
You rewrite my schedule a hundred times a day. But every scrub of the eraser is always worth it.
I love you, little loves.
I pray you always go love well!
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