Written: January 10, 2014
We both know I have only been a mom for sixteen months. I understand this gives me a sliver of authority when speaking on all things “maternal”, but I do believe I have learned at least one valuable lesson in this small window of time. I know, I know. . . you enjoy life when I let you lead the way instead of letting this lesson prevail, but let's be honest, Molly has completely changed the game. And, so, I think it's officially time to let you retire.
Remember when I learned this same lesson when Daniel and I were
first married? You think I would have let it translate over into motherhood, but that would have been too easy. I let you creep back into my little world, and you're just not working in motherhood. I shouldn't be surprised that your tendencies fail in a life of ever changing nap times, teething, blow out diapers, crying fits, and first steps. I guess we both know that I prefer to learn as I go . . .
in academia, they call it “kinesthetic” learning. In real life, it could be called: being a
moron. But I won't beat myself up over it. So, take a deep breath and relish my new mantra:
DON’T SWEAT THE SMALL
STUFF.
That’s it. Plain and
simple.
In marriage, I had to quickly learn this plays out as
follows:*
-
He doesn’t clean the kitchen the same way I do. I don’t think a final wipe down will ever be
in his repertoire.
-
He will probably never learn where all the
dishes go when unloading the dishwasher.
Does the Tupperware cabinet scare him?
Understandable.
-
The clothes lying ON the hamper are also
considered dirty. Obviously the wicker
lid is too inconvenient &/or heavy.
-
The drink HE enjoys while borrowing MY car will
inevitably be in the cup holder the next time I drive my car. I can hear his travel mug of cold coffee or
watered down coke from Arby’s laugh as I begrudgingly rearrange my console to
find room for my beverage. (I should probably work on the whole "yours, mine, & ours" thing...)
In motherhood, it looks like this:**
-
It’s okay if she doesn’t eat a veggie at each
meal. Do potatoes even really count as a
vegetable? No? Bummer.
-
When she was a newborn in gender neutral
clothes, and I was asked, “How old is he?” I just smiled, answered, and threw
on a dash of pink next time.
-
She prefers me (her mother) to a friend or
relative who is asking to hold her for the umpteenth time, just to be rejected
for the umpteenth time.
-
She crawls (on the church’s youth building floor),
sucks her thumb, crawls (in the backyard amidst dog poop), sucks her thumb,
crawls (on the bleachers of the football stadium), sucks her thumb, repeat,
repeat, repeat. . . Yes, I carry those sanitary wipes, but sometimes she beats
me to it. I just hope that whole “germs
build immunity” is a true theory and not just something meant to pacify new
moms.
 |
| Pretty sure the piece of mud she's holding went into her mouth just seconds after this photo. |
*I’ve never claimed to be perfect, so to make things equal,
here are some “small things” Daniel has learned not to sweat in our years of
marital bliss:
-
Something prohibits me from shutting drawers
ALL. THE. WAY. I leave them an inch or
two or three open. I don’t know why - I
just do.
-
When working in the kitchen, I have been known
to leave the refrigerator doors open long enough for that obnoxious alarm to sound. And, I’ve been known to completely ignore
said obnoxious sound. Apparently, Daniel
can’t ignore it, nor the opportunity to ask if we’re refrigerating the whole
kitchen. Good one, Dan, good one.
-
I have no problem driving with the gas light on
or letting my “miles ‘til empty” read in the single digits. I’ve gotten it down to 1. And, I’m pretty sure it drove further than 1
mile. Thanks for that, Toyota. And, thanks, Daniel, for now taking on the
miserable chore of filling my car with gas.
Love ya!
**And to make things equal on the motherhood front, here is
one “small thing” I know Molly will have to learn not to sweat in the future:
-
NO way I keep up with technology. I have about 37 updates to install on my
phone right now and no intention of doing it.
I barely know how to work our TV or any other electronic in the
house. I can’t wait for
12-year-old-Molly to roll her eyes at me when I ask her a question about my
iPhone 10, as she does homework on her iPad 56.
I know all these things drive you crazy, and you want them to be nonexistent in my life. I understand you start to break down and sweat when you watch all these things unfold, but you're going to just have to take a vacation for awhile. You're rarely helpful as I'm raising my sweet daughter and wanting her to have fun, grow in independence, and enjoy life. So, go to the beach. Head to the mountains. Take a Alaskan cruise. It's up to you, but I'm uninviting you into this whole parenting thing.
I think that sometimes your intentions are good, but I have learned we have to choose our battles. We can’t be on edge all the time. We can’t sweat the small things. Why? Because some days, the big things will come up, the war will wage, and I’ll need energy. I’ll want to fight the good fight with my best resources, not the leftovers. Until we realize life isn’t something we control, we won’t ever find true joy in our parenting, marriage, career, etc. So, I won’t panic over digested dirt when I know she’ll have a hard time sharing her toys this afternoon with a friend. I’ll fight that battle and just hope the dirt contains some very organic nutrients.
Enjoy your sabbatical and don't cringe at the messiness of my kitchen or the pile of laundry on your way out. :)
From: Paige
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