Confession time...there's this thing I struggle with. And I mean really struggle with, not like getting a toddler dressed and out the door struggle, but like if you asked me one thing I wish I could tackle and stomp out for good, it would be this.
Accomplishing too much at one time, or should I say attempting to accomplish too much at one time. Because let's face it, there's only so much one mama can handle. Yet I keep pushing to get it all done. And you know who suffers?
Toddling A. Who really needs to be upgraded. She's turning three next week after all and if she were still toddling I'd be concerned she was a little behind the curve...so Preschooling A it shall be.
Anyways, she is the one who ends up feeling like she's always in my way. But in reality, shouldn't she be in my way? She's a little girl wanting to do little girl things, like ride her scooter directly into the path of the vacuum. And spill flour all over the floor while helping make pancakes. And turn her playroom into a caution taped off police only disaster zone.. It's me who has the problem.
Try saying that out loud...it's my problem.
Last week I decided to have some friends over to play. I could have left it at that, had some friends over...the end.
Nope.
Not this girl.
I get home from work the night before and immediately start cleaning. I like my house but there is a lot of floor space and a lot of corners and sometimes it feels like I might as well be cleaning the driveway because the dirt doesn't stop! But here I am hurrying and busying and on a roll making sure there's toilet paper and hand soap and carpets vacuumed. And I'm sweating which is apparently all you do when you live inside a humid wool sock...aka the south. And that makes me mad and I remember I hadnt even cooked dinner yet.
And yep, you guessed it. Here comes Preschooling A. All smiles and just a flying on her scooter. I finish vacuuming and turn around and she has completely turned over a runner and scattered even MORE dirt onto the floor I JUST vacuumed.
I knew it wasn't a big deal but I had a ton left to do and was tired and she was supposed to be playing upstairs and so I see it as not listening and I lost it. You can add your own details. It wasn't pretty. And there were tears. The kind of tears that tell when a little heart is breaking.
And I'd like to tell you this doesn't happen often, and its true the yelling doesn't, but the feelings do. Being interrupted when I have nine different things going on drives me batty. And while I have learned not to yell and scream, I still confine Preschooling A to her room or tell her things like
"Not now"
"Go play"
"Just a second"
But....and here's the thing...
All the not nows and go plays and just a seconds will be over all too soon. And there will be the vacuum, sitting there, saying, now I have you all to myself muhahaha and ill be longing for the interruptions of my sweet Preschooling A.
So just as I'm drowning in my guilt and shame and can't figure out how to come up for even one breath of relief, God brings me this.
"We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing." Psalm 39:6
So I dropped what I was doing and Preschooling A and I went outside and ate popsicles in a glorious thunderstorm. Yes, even before we ate dinner. And the tears stopped and the guilt melted down along with the purple flavored ice. And isn't life just like that? Things get all out of order and sticky and then it starts to rain and lightening strikes and we get a choice. To keep trudging along the best we can, or trade all the chaos for a wild, unashamed, eating popsicles in the rain kind of moment.
That night I chose to trade. Trade a clean uptight house for some smiles and a gooey face.
I learned something else. To quote a favorite writer, Ann Voskamp,
"Hurry always empties a soul."
I don't want an empty soul. And most importantly, I don't want my precious daughter, the most important gift God has ever trusted me with, to have an empty soul either.
I'm working on slowing down and doing more soul filling these days.
And about that clean house...our friends came and our friends left. A mess that is. A tremendously wonderful mess. A we had way too much fun mess.
An honest to God mess of memories.
And that...
That'll fill your soul 'til it's downright flowing over.
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Accomplishing too much at one time, or should I say attempting to accomplish too much at one time. Because let's face it, there's only so much one mama can handle. Yet I keep pushing to get it all done. And you know who suffers?
Toddling A. Who really needs to be upgraded. She's turning three next week after all and if she were still toddling I'd be concerned she was a little behind the curve...so Preschooling A it shall be.
Anyways, she is the one who ends up feeling like she's always in my way. But in reality, shouldn't she be in my way? She's a little girl wanting to do little girl things, like ride her scooter directly into the path of the vacuum. And spill flour all over the floor while helping make pancakes. And turn her playroom into a caution taped off police only disaster zone.. It's me who has the problem.
Try saying that out loud...it's my problem.
Last week I decided to have some friends over to play. I could have left it at that, had some friends over...the end.
Nope.
Not this girl.
I get home from work the night before and immediately start cleaning. I like my house but there is a lot of floor space and a lot of corners and sometimes it feels like I might as well be cleaning the driveway because the dirt doesn't stop! But here I am hurrying and busying and on a roll making sure there's toilet paper and hand soap and carpets vacuumed. And I'm sweating which is apparently all you do when you live inside a humid wool sock...aka the south. And that makes me mad and I remember I hadnt even cooked dinner yet.
And yep, you guessed it. Here comes Preschooling A. All smiles and just a flying on her scooter. I finish vacuuming and turn around and she has completely turned over a runner and scattered even MORE dirt onto the floor I JUST vacuumed.
I knew it wasn't a big deal but I had a ton left to do and was tired and she was supposed to be playing upstairs and so I see it as not listening and I lost it. You can add your own details. It wasn't pretty. And there were tears. The kind of tears that tell when a little heart is breaking.
And I'd like to tell you this doesn't happen often, and its true the yelling doesn't, but the feelings do. Being interrupted when I have nine different things going on drives me batty. And while I have learned not to yell and scream, I still confine Preschooling A to her room or tell her things like
"Not now"
"Go play"
"Just a second"
But....and here's the thing...
All the not nows and go plays and just a seconds will be over all too soon. And there will be the vacuum, sitting there, saying, now I have you all to myself muhahaha and ill be longing for the interruptions of my sweet Preschooling A.
So just as I'm drowning in my guilt and shame and can't figure out how to come up for even one breath of relief, God brings me this.
"We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing." Psalm 39:6
So I dropped what I was doing and Preschooling A and I went outside and ate popsicles in a glorious thunderstorm. Yes, even before we ate dinner. And the tears stopped and the guilt melted down along with the purple flavored ice. And isn't life just like that? Things get all out of order and sticky and then it starts to rain and lightening strikes and we get a choice. To keep trudging along the best we can, or trade all the chaos for a wild, unashamed, eating popsicles in the rain kind of moment.
That night I chose to trade. Trade a clean uptight house for some smiles and a gooey face.
I learned something else. To quote a favorite writer, Ann Voskamp,
"Hurry always empties a soul."
I don't want an empty soul. And most importantly, I don't want my precious daughter, the most important gift God has ever trusted me with, to have an empty soul either.
I'm working on slowing down and doing more soul filling these days.
And about that clean house...our friends came and our friends left. A mess that is. A tremendously wonderful mess. A we had way too much fun mess.
An honest to God mess of memories.
And that...
That'll fill your soul 'til it's downright flowing over.
