The Day After Yesterday...

Yesterday was crazy busy. Eric was getting off of a night shift, Lyla and I got ready for and went to church together, we had plans with friends for lunch and then hosted small group at our house in the afternoon. It was a lot of stuff in a short period of time, which I don't mind so much once in a while, but it was a lot for my poor two-year-old. I fell asleep last night feeling bad about some poor parenting and woke up feeling even worse. I've been thinking a lot about why it was so hard and, while I'm trying not to give in to mom-guilt, I'm hoping to learn a few things and make things better next time we have a busy day. 

It was a day full of new people and new things. Overwhelming. No nap. Exhausted. Meals all wonky. Hungry. Meltdowns that I tried to brush off as no big deal... Little girl clinging to me when I was trying to set out snacks for small group... A goat-bit finger and excessive dog licking that probably frightened her a good deal... All things that I responded poorly to. And why? Because I was embarrassed. Because I was fearful of being judged. 

This is probably a direct result of judging other parents too harshly. We all do it, and with social media, we've got even more targets and ammo at our fingertips. This parent is being too clingy or that parent is too hands-off.... There's no winning for anyone. That sweet-spot in parenting is impossible to hit all the time... That place where you won't be judged for being too hands-on and or too hands-off. Managing to strike the perfect balance so your kids won't need years of therapy to undo all that you did. We are so hard on each other as parents and it only serves to bring us down and take away from our kids. I get so caught up in trying to be the best parent so that no one can say anything bad about the way I do things... Making sure I don't give in to the fussing and whining... Not responding to owies too dramatically and not babying too much... Nurturing as much as possible while allowing for independence... I'm so scared of the opinions of others that I end up not thinking about things from her perspective. Sure, those parenting goals are important and useful, but by worrying about the opinions of others, I can miss perfect opportunities to comfort and calm and nurture and build her up. 

Yesterday was rough. And I worried that my poor parenting had done irreversible damage (dramatic, much?!?) But today was a fresh start... Another chance to do things right. So, that's what we did. We had a pj morning and did whatever Lyla wanted to do. We had a 'yes' day, inspired by another friend who recently shared that she did the same. Rather than saying a million 'no's and correcting every single little thing, I said 'yes' as much as I could, and I tried hard to let the little things go. My heart is full, and my girl has sweet new memories with her mama. Win win. 

So, what did our 'yes' morning look like??

This. 

Yes to writing/mailing letters and coloring outside. Yes to the annoying straw ice cream cup.

Yes to jumping in puddles. In PJs. Over. And over. And over. And yes to piggy-back rides running around the yard.. Dirt? Mud? Wet? Looking like a fool? Letting it go. 

Yes to "visit daddy at work". Still in PJs and mama not close to looking presentable? Letting it go.

Yes to blowing bubbles. "All by myself." 

Bubbles dumped on mama? Letting it go.

Yes to a lunch of "crackers and cheese", with Minnie, in a big-girl chair, while wearing fancy shoes. 

Yes to cuddling in mamas bed while watching Veggies after nap. Shorter-than-usual nap? Letting it go. 

Things are looking up, my friends. I might even be able to sleep better tonight than last... With fewer worries that one rough  parenting day had ruined my little one... This whole parenting gig is hard. And it's near impossible when we are consumed with self-doubt and fear of judgement. We are all just doing the best we can and, when those inevitable poor-parenting days do happen, we can rest assured that tomorrow is a new day... That there is grace to cover every oops or "I wish I had"... That everyone else is in the same boat. Here's a virtual high-five. Keep up the good work, people! 

Sarah

You're Growing Up

Lyla,

It's getting harder and harder to keep up with you. You are going places, girl. Your mind is working and your feet are running.. All. The. Time. You have your own thoughts and ideas and opinions and I have heard "No thanks mom" more times than I can count. You like to tell me "no", which we need to keep working on, but at least you're polite about it. 

This week we've been using lots of extra bandaids (Sorry to get you mid-bite there... I was just so proud of your good bandaiding-job!) It seems like lately you just keep getting all scraped up. Your fingers and toes, your knees and elbows... They have all seen better days. Now, whenever you need (or want) a bandaid, you have to put it on "all by myself". So, I give it to you, still in the wrapper, and you peel it away and stick it on, often somewhat successfully (although somehow you managed to get this one stuck in your hair...) 

It's another sign that you're growing up. Just like the light-up shoes we just had to buy you in a size 7... You're not a toddler anymore and you're definitely not a baby. You're a little kid. And I love it. I love all the new things we get to do together now that you're older. I love all of your new words and phrases and personality traits that are revealing themselves more and more each day. I love that you can play on the playground (mostly) on your own. I love that you can and want to help with all of the things all of the time. You are a lot of fun! But it is hard not to mourn the other side to you growing up... 

Adulthood... Big-people problems... Every few months, certain situations come up that cause your mama a good deal of stress. I start thinking, "But I'm just a kid. I shouldn't have to deal with this." And then I am reminded that I am your mama, officially in my late 20's and definitely not a kid anymore. There's this other side of growing up... The side that knows too much... The side that is increasingly tempted to fear and worry about the big things... Stuff that little ones are, appropriately, shielded from. As you grow and learn and can do more things, I'm mourning the sweet ignorance and innocence that part of me wishes you could hold onto forever... 

But I know that as you learn more about this world that you live in, you will want to help. You will want to do big things. Over the next 20 years, your eyes will be opened to the hurts and pains and injustices in the world and, I pray, your heart will be a little bit broken by it all. Because that is the only way to live... Eager to do your part to make things a little bit better.

So, sweet Lyla, keep growing and changing. Keep learning and exploring and wanting to do things "all by myself". Enjoy still being little and ignorant of most of the issues in this hurting world. And, for now, I'll be praying hard for that feeling-heart you inherited from your mama... That it will be tender enough to hurt for the pain of others and strong enough to do something about it. And that you will know that you do not have to carry these big-kid-burdens on your own. Your mama is still trying to learn this... God gave us feeling hearts for a reason and He will help us with the load that is too heavy to carry on our own. Keep spreading little bits of joy and love wherever you go. You may still be little, but you can do big things. You make your daddy and mama so very proud. 

All the nose-kisses,

Mama

Big Enough

"Everyone is big enough, big enough to do something."

This Daniel Tiger song has been sung over and over and over in our house lately. The first time we heard her sing it, we were working on painting the family room and kitchen. She came over to me and grabbed the end of the paintbrush I was using and, while painting the wall with me, sang "everyone is big enough, big enough to do something". And a little part of me freaked out because it was the first time I had seen her actually connect a lesson she learned in her show to a real-life situation. She's growing! Since then, she has wanted to help with everything she possibly can and often sings her little tune, almost as a way of cheering herself on. "Go Lyla!" "You can help!" "You're big enough!" 

She wants to help with the sweeping and mopping and dusting and hammering and yard work and cooking. The other day she and I made breakfast for Daddy and it was the best start to our day. Rather than telling her no or putting her in front of the TV so I could get things done myself, I included her. I said yes. I confirmed in her little head and heart that she was big enough. There are countless times we have to say no. Situations where we would be irresponsible to let her help... But there are numerous times that we can say yes. We just need to set aside our time-table and somewhat-obsessive tendencies. We have to let go of the fact that things might turn out a little different than if we were to do them ourselves. 

It's impossible not to see huge similarities between this whole parenting gig and my relationship with God. It is becoming more and more clear to me how God gently parents us and guides us as we grow and learn. This new "helping" stage with our girl is no exception... God doesn't NEED my help to take care of His world anymore than I NEED Lyla's help to take care of my house. He could certainly do it on His own... But he says "yes". He says "you're big enough to do something". He gives us the opportunity to be a part of caring for the people and the Earth that He created. And, sure, sometimes we goof up... We make a bigger mess than was there when we started... He might even think to Himself how much easier it would be to just fix things on His own. But instead He invites us to help... To use our gifts and passions to bless the world. What a gift to know that we are enough. That God can use even us messy toddlers to make the world better. 

So, next time Lyla asks to help and I am tempted to say no, I'll think twice and remember my God who, in His grace, says "yes" to me. I'll find an extra paintbrush or duster or wooden spoon and let her go for it. Because we are all big enough to help... Two-year-olds included. 

Two

My baby just turned two, which feels like a pretty big deal. There were donuts and presents and cupcakes and friends and family and food all weekend long. We celebrated her little life pretty darn well, with plenty of sugar and lots of her people. Success. I know I should probably be crying all the bittersweet tears and begging time to stop because my-baby-is-growing-up-too-fast-and-I-can't-even-deal, but I'm actually pretty pumped. (In case anyone thinks I'm dead inside, I shed a couple when we set up her big girl bed... Come on, I'm not a robot.) 

Don't get me wrong, I have loved these past two years with her, but the newborn/infancy stage was really, really tough on me. This time two years ago, we were settling in to our first night at home with her, and I was an anxious, terrified, exhausted, hormonal, weepy mess. And I was like that for months and months... And months... So, when I say that I'm not super sad to be two years out from those early days and weeks (and months) with my girl, I mean it. I count myself blessed to have been able to carry her in my belly for nine months, bring her into this world and breastfeed her for the first year of her life. I do not take these precious things for granted. They are true gifts, and I am thankful for them. But in the spirit of being real and honest, I will tell you that those beautiful experiences were the most difficult of my life, and I'm thankful to be past them.

I'm loving having a toddler. I love that we can communicate with each other. I love that we can play and that I can see her learning new things everyday. I love that she is quickly learning to value her people over stuff. I'm thankful to be where we are at. And I'm truly not mourning her transition from baby to child. I can look back on the brokenness of my early days as a mom with gratitude and fondness, knowing that as with all things, God is the best at creating beauty from pain. This is why the theme of grace is such a big deal for me... Why I talk about it all the time and why it's the title of my blog... There are pictures of it everywhere and, lately, I can't help but see and share them. My baby just turned two. And it is a big deal. Because of grace. We celebrate this milestone because of loads of grace. 

Play Dough and Princess Undies

This point in our parenting journey with Lyla is an emotional doozy. I suppose they all have been in their own special ways. And truly, the reason has been there all along too... I simultaneously want to be able to stop time and hurry it up. When she whines for every. single. thing that she wants or needs: "time speed up". When she can't understand that I'm trying to help and fights me: "please, time, move it along". When she pulls away from me and throws a fit in the middle of Target: "time, FOR THE LOVE, just hurry up already!"

Then tonight I go into her room to check on her, expecting to find her sleeping soundly. Instead she looks up with those big blue eyes, reaches for me and says "cuddle chair". So that's what we do. I know it's a stalling tactic... She's too smart for our own good.... But we cuddle in the chair... Because I know she will only want to cuddle with her mama for so many more years... And I rock her just like I did when she was tiny, surrounded by the same nursery decor... Curtains sewn by my own mama and sweet paintings created by my most favorite sister-friend. She's all wrapped up in the same special quilt (only she's 2 feet taller now and her feet stick out over the side of the chair) as we rock, back and forth... Back and forth... I stroke her long, silky hair and kiss her warm still-chubby cheeks. And we sing. And pray. "Deeeir Jees"... She might not be able to say both syllables of 'Jesus' yet, but you can bet those beautiful little prayers reach His ears. 

And a tiny part (ok... a big part...) of me aches and I think, "Oh time... Please, please slow down." We bought her play dough and princess undies today. And I LOVE IT. I really do. I love that we are starting to do more kid stuff with her. I'm pumped for her to be potty trained someday, hopefully, in the near future... And for the tantrums to simmer down... For her to express her needs with words not whines... For easier, less embarrassing Target runs... But a tiny (read: big) part of me also mourns it. With each new stage we experience, she is moving a little further away from her mama. She is becoming more independent which, I hear, is one of the ultimate goals of parenting. But thinking about it--writing about it now--makes my eyes mist and my throat lump. So, as I begin this month that will mark two years of motherhood for me, this beautiful, heartbreaking quote is a precious reminder. Mamas, friends, readers: this is love. It fills us to overflowing and empties us of everything we have. It gets us excited for what is to come while keeping us grateful for what was. It is not always easy, but it is the only way to truly live. 

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." -C.S. Lewis 

Sarah