It’s hard to believe this will be my third Mother’s Day — or fourth if you count the one where I was pregnant.  Each year she changes more and more, just as she should.  So, while I’m feeling nostalgic, I thought I’d take a look back at her over these last three years.

May 2010

May 2011

April/May 2012

Like the fact that our refrigerator died and we’ve been using a cooler in the kitchen since last Monday (as in April 30).  Like the fact that the new fridge was on back order until May 15.  Like the fact that a possum has taken up residence in our backyard and stares me down every day at 6 a.m. when I stand at the back door about to let our dog out.  Like the fact that we got a large and unexpected medical bill the day before we paid for our new refrigerator.  Like the fact that I’m scrambling around this week to get a huge list of things done each day in preparation for having next week off.  Like the fact that I went to one pharmacy for a medicine only to find it was across town at another instead, even though I’d called earlier in the day to be sure of where it was.  Like the fact I was excited for a steak dinner and ended up with a fatty steak I couldn’t even chew (but, I at least had good company and didn’t have to pay for the dinner).

Nothing horrible.  Nothing life threatening.  But a whole lot of annoyance.  After yesterday morning’s face-off with the aforementioned possum and another trip out front in my pajamas with my dog on his leash to do his business, that old phrase was running through my mind: “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”  And I came very, very close to skipping my morning devotion time. After all, I’d had enough of the day already.  I decided that wasn’t a good excuse.  I also reminded myself that when I most feel like skipping my devotion time is usually when I need it most.  So, I slightly begrudgingly plopped down on my dining room couch and picked up my Bible and devotion books.

These are the times that I debate whether God has a sense of humor or is just showing me His great compassion.  He showed up.  He was right there yesterday morning during my devotion time when I was grumpy and tired of all the little things.  He knew exactly what I needed.  The day’s devotion was about being safe in storms.  The author, Dennis Apple, wrote about how his 18-year-old son had died unexpectedly in his sleep in 1991.  Talk about a storm.  It gave me some perspective.  Yes, I have had lots of little crazies lately, but nothing as bad as what Apple faced.  At the same time, it reminded me the same God who helped him and his wife through that hard time is still the same God today who helps me through even the small stuff.  My eyes misted over as I read the final paragraph:

“So, if you find yourself in a bad storm today, and you cannot seem to make it to your destination, let go of the oars and look to the One who still says, ‘Don’t be afraid.’”  — Dennis Apple, “Reflecting God, Spring 2012″

My storms right now are small.  They are really barely sprinkles in the midst of life.  I’ve been in stronger storms where I had to batten down the hatches and take cover.  There have been really hard times.  It makes small annoyances seem much easier to deal with.  God reminded me that He cares whether it’s proverbially sunny, rainy, stormy or somewhere in between.

And He doesn’t forget us.  We were ready to wait for our back-ordered-until-May-15 new refrigerator and deal with using a cooler.  Then we found out Sunday evening the new one will actually be delivered today.  Sure, it may be the manufacturer, but I think it’s a God thing!  He’s helping me weather even the sprinkles of life.  Thank You, Jesus!

My kiddo enjoying some time swinging at the playground. The curly slide behind her was the smaller one that she tried twice and changed her mind about both times.

And being outside means sometimes taking her to the park.  Judge away, but in her entire 2-1/2 years, she’s only been to a playground twice.  The second time was last week.  Last fall, on a random warm day, we went to a park with a playground.  I took her on my own which was tricky.  It was a bigger playground with more activities and more slides.  I was a nervous wreck.  This time we went to one I found closer to home with just a few pieces of equipment that I knew she’d like and I took my mom along.  It’s nice to have a second person so I can do things like climb to the top of the slide with her and stay with her in case she changes her mind and wants to try and climb back down.  She’s not a super physical kid.  She changed her mind twice about the twisty slide and needed help back down.  I can’t be at the top with her and at the bottom with her all at the same time.

Basically, I have a fear of parks and playgrounds.  I have a mom friend who blogged about this very topic not all that long ago.  She had great reasons for being concerned, including that her daughter had gotten hurt.  My fears have much more to do with myself.  I was a clumsy kid.  My mom tells me that sometimes I was just very cautious and would change my mind and back up (just like my kiddo at the top of the curly slide).  Being cautious isn’t such a bad thing, but being over-cautious can lead to problems.  For example, each year from 1 through 5 in my life, I broke a bone: two collarbones and three arms.  While some of those happened other places, a good portion of these injuries happened on the playground.

I never wanted to be a hovering mom.  But, I really would love to put my kiddo in a bubble.  I’d love to never let her climb on playground equipment.  It seems so high compared to her petite frame — and she’s not all that petite for her age being in the 75th percentile for height as of her last checkup.  The kid’s already in size 4T because she needs the length.  That equipment, though, is just so high and big.  I get so nervous.

This new-to-us park I discovered worked pretty well at least.  There was a giant curly slide with a ladder straight up.  That made my palms sweat just looking at it.  Fortunately, my child isn’t overly zealous or brave to try and navigate that one after I said no.  The smaller one made her too nervous anyway.  I was thankful.

Now I’m left with trying to balance letting her enjoy a park and playground safely while not freaking out (for her sake or mine).  I don’t want her to be afraid to play and try new things.  I don’t want her to pick up on my anxieties.  I know that she’s going to get hurt, but I sure don’t have to like it.  For now, I’m thinking my best bet is to take her to the park only when someone else can join us.  Maybe if we ease our way into it, then eventually I can work up to taking her alone once she is comfortable with the playground equipment and I am, too.  I’m pretty sure it will get easier with time and experience, right?

It’s a family affair. I learned that my mother- and father-in-law started singing together in churches right after they got married.  They traveled and sang wherever they could.  When each of their two sons were born, the boys went with them, too.  It wasn’t long before my brother-in-law, who is almost six years older than my husband, was joining them on stage.  Then my husband did, too.  They have an incredibly cute video of my husband around age 6 or 7 sitting on stage playing a snare drum during a performance.  He looked bored — and adorable!

I’ve heard the stories about my husband, in particular, when he got up as a young child to sing a song and belted out the theme from the “Dukes of Hazard.”  Or another time when the pastor of the church where they were singing asked folks to come to the alter.  Evidently the turn out wasn’t so great because my husband admonished the congregation: “Didn’t you hear him?  He said to come down here!”

It’s taken lots of sacrifices. Aside from cute stories like these, there are other stories that go with this southern gospel family.  Things like packing a jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread in the car to feed the family in an economical manner.  Things like saving and sacrificing in order to go and do what God called them to do.  Things like buying a bus to save money on hotel stays instead of buying a new home.  Things like buying music equipment rather than a bigger television.

It’s a God-given musical gift. One of the things I learned very early on was the talent within this family.  It run deeps, yet they are incredibly humble about it and don’t do it for attention or glory.  It’s something they do for the love of the Lord and the love of music.  While I was classically trained in music as a youth — taking piano, violin and trombone lessons — my in-laws don’t have as much training.  Both of the boys had some classes and my husband and I met in high school band.  But, their parents don’t really even read music.  Yet, they can play music and compose songs.  They have an ear for it completely.  My father-in-law has written more than 700 songs, many of them on the back of time cards from the factory where he worked for years before retiring.

I had a music professor in college who said people who play by ear aren’t actually talented at music.  He didn’t think it counts.  I think just the opposite.  I love music, and I love playing it.  But, I can’t create it.  I can’t just hear something and pick it up.  That’s true musicality.  And my in-laws and husband are great at that.

My mother-in-law and kiddo on stage practicing for my kiddo's recent stage debut.

It’s a lot of love. There is a lot of love that comes with a southern gospel legacy.  The first is a love for the Lord.  None of them would work a 40- (or more) hour week then take their weekends traveling to sing if it weren’t for the love of the Lord and their music ministry.  After my husband and I got married and I started traveling with them, too, I realized how exhausting it is.  It’s not something you’d do without a love for what you’re doing and for Whom you’re doing it.

It also takes a lot of family love.  After all, you’re stuck together in a car (or bus) for hours upon hours traveling on many weekends.  You’re sleeping near each other, helping set up, tear down, practice, get ready — all sorts of things.  With close quarters and sometimes stressful situations, you’ve got to support one another.  I have a good set of in-laws.  While there were stressful moments (like the Easter we got carbon monoxide poisoning on the bus), more than anything there were fun moments.

The other love component that is perhaps unique to me as someone coming into this legacy is how much love I feel for my husband when I see him on stage playing his bass or singing.  I’m always overwhelmed, grateful and blessed.  I feel the same with my in-laws.  It’s a sort of pride and bond with them.  They are good at what they do, which makes me proud, but I’m more proud because of their hearts and love for the Lord.  I feel blessed to be part of their family and involved in their group in any way.

It’s tough. While there are so many good things, it is tough.  Yes, there are sacrifices to be made, as I mentioned.  But there are also just challenges on the road.  I remember the time we were recording a CD in Nashville, Tenn., and I was so incredibly sick thanks to a bad reaction from an antibiotic.  My mother-in-law has had more than her fair share of health struggles after having a heart attack in 2001.  It can be a challenge.

There are smaller challenges along the way, like not getting a chance to eat because there isn’t time or food available.  Though most churches are incredibly welcoming and accommodating, there are always a couple that make being there challenging.  And then there are just logistical issues that pop up.  I’m not sure how else to word that other than to share a story.  The very first trip I made with The Shannons was about a month after we were married.  We went to a small church in Ohio.  It was in the middle of nowhere.  It was a tiny church; I’m pretty sure the bus was larger than the church building.  But, it didn’t have indoor plumbing.  Mind you, this was in 1999, so we’re not talking olden days.  I remember heading to the outhouse and finding a spider on the door who’s body was literally the size of the palm of my hand.  THAT was a challenge.  I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

It’s really a legacy. Since having our kiddo back in 2009, we’ve not really been part of the group.  Traveling so much with a baby or toddler in tow is a challenge to say the least.  But, the music ministry is carrying on in our daughter already.  Since she found her voice, she’s been singing.  First it was just random noises, then some words and now full-blown songs.  She sings songs she knows.  She makes up songs of her own.  She sings a LOT.  At 2-1/2, she is most definitely showing an interest in music and in singing.

And this past weekend, we were able to join my in-laws at a singing.  It was the kiddo’s first one.  My mother-in-law was hopeful she’d come on stage, but none of us had any expectations.  My husband and I both sang a song.  Then Lexiana surprised us when my mother-in-law invited her to come up and she climbed down from my lap and walked up there like she owned the place.  She then proceeded to sing a couple of lines of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” into the microphone.  When she stopped singing and my mother-in-law took the microphone back, Lexiana told her she wasn’t finished.  I don’t think she is finished.  She is young, but she is already learning a few things about this southern gospel family into which she was born.  It is a legacy.  It is an awesome legacy of ministry and love for God.  And it is one I’m very proud my family is a part of.

Of all places, I got my inspiration from a sitcom.  A few weeks ago, an episode of “Rules of Engagement” showed the husband doing a romantic scavenger hunt for his wife.  I thought that was a cool concept, so that got the ideas rolling for me.  I ended up going online to do some research to figure out how I was going to plan a scavenger hunt, especially considering that I didn’t necessarily want to involve anyone else.  Then I went to my online mom’s group and got some more ideas.  It wasn’t long before a plan was hatched.  I would take my husband to visit spots all around town that were significant to us.  He’d have a clue to figure out where to go, we’d do something when we got to each location (to give us a reason to go there) and I’d write out my memories of that spot and share with him while we were there.  I had no idea if it would work or he would like it, but I was planning away.

It took me some time to write the clues.  I wanted them to be clever and sort of poetic.  I enlisted the help of a couple of creative friends.  They gave me some feedback and I was set.  The memories were easier to write for me (since writing is what I do and I’m a natural sap).  The Friday before our big date, I planned to spend the kiddo’s nap time formatting my clues and memories on the computer and printing them to look nice.  My husband ended up working from home that afternoon, so it got a bit tricky, but I got it done and he was none-the-wiser.

When Sunday morning dawned, I was excited for our date.  I gave him a paper explaining that we were about to go on a scavenger hunt down memory lane and visit spots where our relationship began.  He was slightly dubious, I think, but he was up for whatever I had in store.  He’s a good sport that way.  I gave him the first clue.  He guessed it was our high school, which is where we first met.  He wanted to know what we’d do there.  I was mum.

We got into the car and I slide in my old Richard Marx CD, which includes our song, “Now and Forever.”  I got bonus points for that.  As soon as the songs started playing Chris gave me an appropriate, “Awwww.”  He’s a good man.

My cute husband on the last stop of our date.

When we got to the high school, I pulled around back near the band room.  We first met in marching band.  I have lots of great memories of Chris in high school.  In fact, this coming Friday will mark 18 years since he asked me to be his girlfriend on my 15th birthday, so the timing of this date was impeccable.  Of all our memories, I really enjoyed the dances we went to together.  Along with homecomings and Sadie Hawkins’ dances, we also had three proms together.  We’ve not been to out dancing since high school (it’s just not our thing).  But, we have danced at home.  I asked him to dance with me in the parking lot and cranked up our song (note to self: double check which track number it is next time).  Yeah, it was a bit weird.  Sure, we got some funny looks from people driving by.  And then there was an awkward moment when an older gentleman on a scooter came past to check out the tennis courts, but it was also divine.  I closed my eyes.  We swayed, and somehow I felt a lot like teenage Stacey again, completely in love and infatuated with this man.

We shared some kisses and some laughs.  When we got back in the car, I started to read him my memories from high school, where it all started, and got too choked up to go on.  He finished reading it and got a bit choked up, too, which is not typical for him.  The date was off to a great start.  I think we both remembered those days when we were young and in love.

Our next clue led us to McDonald’s, where we ate on our first date.  My parents were with us on that first date way back when because I was too young to car date.  We enjoyed breakfast together and reminisced about what our first date had been like, including how my husband first went to the restaurant next door on accident.  We talked about how I was so excited and couldn’t wait to see him.  It was a good time.

Me on the last stop of our MDP date.

The third clue led us to the movie theater where we had our first kiss.  I gave him the option of two movies that fit into the timeframe and I knew he wanted to see.  He picked “Wrath of the Titans.”  But, we had about an hour to kill.  So, we took a break from memory lane and ran a couple of errands.  We headed to Walgreen’s to buy a new mouth guard for me for grinding my teeth at night.  Then we stopped by Game Stop and picked up a couple of used games for him with a coupon he had for his birthday.  Then it was off to the movie.  We enjoyed it.  Even better was the fact that we were at an early showing with cheap tickets and none one us was there.  We had the theater to ourselves, which was pretty cool.  (And gave me bragging rights to tell him I’d rented the whole place out just for us!  Of course, he’s smart enough to know better.)

Our fourth clue led us to Olive Garden, which is the restaurant where we ate the night he proposed.  I shared with him (in my memory page) that I even remembered what I ate that night, what I wore and how I had painted my fingernails red.  We had a nice late lunch.  We ate pasta and breadsticks and talked about memories.  We revisited things we hadn’t talked about or remembered in a while.  One of the things I noticed is that throughout the lunch (and most of the date), we didn’t talk about the kiddo or serious, current life stuff all that much.  We just remembered the years ago when it all started.  We talked about us.  We completely enjoyed one another and laughed a lot.  It was awesome.

Our date ended with the fifth clue leading us to the residence hall where he proposed.  That doesn’t sound at all romantic or nice, but he made it very special.  He conspired with my roommate and placed roses, rose petals and candles in my room.  He had our song on the CD player.  We giggled about how I had to wait in the car with his pager and he paged me when he was ready for me to come in.  This was 1998.  There weren’t a lot of cell phones back then.

My former residence hall in the distance. This is where our marriage started with a romantic proposal I'll never forget.

We didn’t go back into the room because other students live there now and would probably think we are old and crazy, even though we don’t feel that old or that crazy.  Instead, we went across the road and walked around the pond.  It was a nice, relaxing walk with conversation that flowed easily.  We saw a duck family and pointed out what we felt was a father duck protecting his mama duck and babies.  We talked about how my husband is like that — how he takes care of us and watches out for us.  I’m sure he does even more than I know.

The date was a good one.  The scavenger hunt aspect was unique.  It certainly wasn’t anything we’d done before.  We had been to all these places before, but going to them with the purpose of focusing on the past was a good thing.  Getting stuck in the past isn’t a good thing, but remembering where we came from and how we fell in love so many years ago is definitely a good thing.  We have a good relationship and a strong marriage, but we also still have struggles.  There are times we get caught up in the day-to-day stresses of work, household chores and raising a family.  It was incredibly nice to go back and remember where it all started.  I got choked up thinking about how us talking to one another in band led to what we have now: this whole life and family.

Of course we’ve changed since then.  If we still behaved the same way now as we did back when were met at 14 and 16, I’d be worried.  But, we’ve changed together.  We’ve grown together.  We’ve made a life together.  And while I loved him back then and knew I’d spend my life with him, I love him even more now and can’t imagine life without him.  These are the things this scavenger hunt date made us really stop and remember.

I’d say our MDP date four was a complete success!

My kiddo back in September of 2010 wearing a Sleep Sack in her crib. I miss those days when I knew it'd stay on her and she'd be warm. We used a Sleep Sack until she was just over 1-1/2 for that reason.

As I was moaning to Chris about how I missed the easier Sleep Sack days, he told me to blog about it.  “Blog about Sleep Sacks?” I asked.  “No, blog about how it’s hard to lose control.”

Yikes!  I do perhaps have control issues with my child.  I think it comes with motherhood.  The problem is that kids grow up and slowly we lose more and more control.  The Sleep Sack issue is just one thing.  Another is that I’ve been working with her recently to walk at the grocery store or Target instead of riding in the cart.  She’s super excited about this, but I’m not quite as excited.  I know it needs to be done.  After all, the carts are only so big so she’ll outgrow them at some point.  But, letting  her walk means I lose control over what she does.  Well, I don’t lose all control.  The deal is she has to follow my instructions or she goes into the cart.  However, I don’t have the complete control as I do when she’s in the cart.  I have to watch out that she’s not in some absent-minded shopper’s cart path.  I have to make sure she’s not taking a bite out of the raw green beans in the produce section (oops!).  There are all sorts of things that come up that now I have to deal with that I didn’t before.  She’s able to do more of her own thing.

I also remember when I could just feed her baby food and she’d eat it.  Well, not always, but most of the time.  And she didn’t tell me I made it incorrectly like she sometimes does now.  She didn’t ask for specific things.  I had complete control of what she ate back then.  I don’t have as much now.  It will definitely get more pronounced as time goes on.  The same is true with what she wears.  She’s already voicing her opinions on clothes and that will definitely increase as she gets older.  After all, my mom no longer dictates what I eat or wear; she hasn’t in years.

I’ve struggled to leave her with other people because I don’t know exactly what will happen while I’m away.  But, I remind myself that I trust these other people (my parents and my in-laws) or else I wouldn’t leave her with them.  Do I give them instructions?  Yeah.  Not as much as I once did, because her care is simpler these days and she definitely speaks for herself.  But, I have to let go sometimes and let it be.

The silliest part is that I don’t actually have control over much.  From the time she was a newborn, she let me know when she was hungry or had a dirty diaper or was tired.  As a baby, she totally dictated when I slept, when I ate, when I did anything.  That’s OK.  That’s how babies are.  That’s still the truth in many ways.  I guess to make up for that, I like to have control over the things I can have a say in: what she eats, where we go, how covered up she is, etc.  I also want to control these things because I desperately want her to be happy and healthy.  I want her to be warm at night so she can sleep well.  I want her to eat good food so she can be healthy and grow big and strong.

I know with each phase she goes through as she grows up, I will slowly lose more and more control.  It’s not all that fun to me, but it’s definitely part of life.  I’m learning to let go in little bits here and there.  It sucks.  But, I think that old saying is true: “If you love something, let it go.  If it doesn’t come back to you, it was never truly yours in the first place.”  The thing is, my mom went through all these things with me (just like every mother does).  And these days she’s my best friend with whom I talk pretty much daily.  I’m hoping and praying that as I let Lexiana “go” and give up control over these next 16 years the same will eventually be true for us.

I know you think I may have gone insane, but I assure you I have all my faculties.  You see, my “friend” was a role playing character.  And when I say that I killed the crow, I mean my own role playing character killed it.  I have mentioned before that about once a month we gather with some friends for role playing.  (That often evokes images of acne-covered teenage boys with zero social skills playing Dungeons and Dragons in their parents’ basements.  But, I can assure you that’s not the case with us.  Everybody who plays with us is a respectable adult with jobs in regular relationships.  We just like games.  I have made the transition from gamer’s wife to gaming wife.  And that’s OK with me.)

The thing about any role playing campaign, from what I’ve been told, is that you have to be prepared for your character to die.  It just happens.  After all, it wouldn’t be all that thrilling (or relatively realistic) if you were fighting in a battle that couldn’t kill you.  I know this.  But, I still get attached.  I am attached to my own character, Violet Harper.  She’s a sharp-shooting adventurer in the Weird West (known as Deadlands to any gamers out there).  Her husband left her for another woman and she’s learning to totally take care of herself and trust others again.  She’s tough.  I like her.  I don’t want anything to happen to her.

My husband and our friend, Isaac, with whom Chris been role playing since they were in middle school, both have their next characters almost completed.  In fact, they’ve both admitted they’re almost eager for their current characters to die so they can create the new ones.  I don’t understand that.  I’m much newer to role playing, and I’m the type of person who sobs when I get a new computer because I think of all my old computer and I have been through together (sadly, this is very true and in no way an exaggeration).

Rest in peace, Jonathan War Eagle

While I knew that at some point somebody’s character was going to die, I still wasn’t prepared for it.  We’ve been playing this for just over a year now.  I got attached.  The character who was lost to us for good was Jonathan War Eagle.  He was a Native American.  Our friend, Wade, controlled him.  Wade started role playing with this campaign, like I did.  We were novices together.  Another role-playing-savvy friend created the character for him, but Wade made Jonathan War Eagle his own.  War Eagle was the last of his tribe.  And he had a no-holds-barred attitude.  In one of our very first missions we were fighting bad guys on a train.  War Eagle’s solution was to derail the train even though we were all aboard.  Fortunately, we all survived.

In another mission, War Eagle and Violet (my character) were in the bottom of a ship.  To kill a bad guy, he shot an arrow into highly explosive material.  We barely escaped with our lives.  But, these are the tales of Jonathan War Eagle.  Sometimes what he did didn’t make sense, but it all worked itself out and saved our role-playing butts quite a few times.

This last mission we were on involved saving a town from sacrificing two people each full moon to a giant crow.  Our ragtag band of adventurers works together to right wrongs.  War Eagle, who tended to fight melee style with enemies, was right beside a man who turned into a giant crow and carried him off.  As my sharp-shooting Violet was trying to down the crow and save her friend, I even proclaimed, “I’ve got to save my Jonathan War Eagle.”

But, he wriggled free and down he went.  I know what you non-role players are thinking (if you’ve even read this far!): how do you determine death?  Well, it’s different for every system.  We play Savage Worlds, so everything is dependent on the roll of the dice.  I could go into detail, but suffice it to say that the dice did not work in Jonathan War Eagle’s favor.  None of us knew if that fall would kill him.  In fact, it was only a 30-foot fall, so we didn’t really expect it to.  We figured he’d come out hurt.  But the dice changed that up.  Even my husband, who was running this mission, had no clue War Eagle was falling to his death until the dice were finished rolling.

And so we sat there stunned.  OK, maybe that’s dramatic.  I was stunned.  The guys were stunned, maybe, but they were also animated.  They are testosterone-filled guys who were already whooping about the excitement.  My husband painted the picture for us of impaled War Eagle.  We took down his body and decided what to do with it.  I didn’t know what to say.  Neither did Violet.  I was shocked.  Fortunately, my husband was kind enough not to point out to our friends the tears he saw in my eyes as we were saying our good-byes to War Eagle through our characters.  Boys don’t cry about these things.

I, however, get attached.  And the loss of Jonathan War Eagle made me sad.  I’m going to miss that crazy Indian, as we often referred to him for his antics.  I will miss his butt-load of money, enterprising ideas and 50 feet of rope.  Wade will create a new character.  Life will go on.  War Eagle was never real to begin with, yet, I somehow still feel a bit of a loss.

And so, I have to blog and say good-bye to my “friend” who very nearly killed me (via Violet) a few times and who very much saved my butt a couple of times.  He was a good and loyal friend.   RIP, Jonathan War Eagle.

While I’m not my child’s servant, I am called to have a servant’s heart to everyone.  Right now, I am called to have that heart especially for her.  I am her mother.  I am the woman put into her life to take care of her and meet her needs.  I need to remember to do that more often with a happy spirit.  Don’t get me wrong; I don’t mope about and grump about.  I don’t begrudgingly take care of her 95 percent of the time.  But, I have my moments when I’m tired or grouchy or whatever.

And for those moments in myself (that I’m sure — or maybe at least sort of hopeful that other moms have, too; please don’t tell me I’m a bad mother!), I’ve decided to make a list of what I love about motherhood.  It’s been a while since I’ve done such a list.  The way I’ve felt of late in dealing with the sometimes difficult battles of toddlerhood, I need these reminders.

- I love having little hands seek to hold mine.  She knows I will keep her safe.  Just this week as we were walking into the grocery store, she looked at me while I was shutting the car door, before I could even say anything to her, and said, “Hold my hand, mommy.”  I love that little hand wrapped up in mine.

- I love getting little kisses.  At 2-1/2, the kiddo is now old enough to give sweet kisses that aren’t slobber filled.  I love the pecks on the cheek I get from her.

- I love giving kisses — lots of them.  On her sweet, smooth cheeks, in her soft, curly red hair, at the nape of her neck — everywhere.  I even sometimes kiss her knee as I’m getting her out of her highchair.  (Reminding myself to especially remember these; there will be a day I won’t get to kiss her nearly so much!)

- I love snuggle-buggleing with her.  Yep, that’s our own term.  And, yes, even as a self-proclaimed grammar fiend, I make up words.  Snuggle-buggleling is just snuggling.  She asks to snuggle a lot.  Sometimes she asks to snuggle just to get out of doing something she wants, but even then it’s not so bad.

- I love laughing with her.  I laugh more than I ever have.  My kiddo is funny.  I never know what she’s going to say.  Many, many times a day she makes me laugh.  Like the other evening when she removed the pepperoni from her pizza and declared: “This kid doesn’t like pepperoni.”  Or when she got her pretend knife out of her play kitchen to sharpen the cheddar cheese after we’d purchased extra sharp cheddar cheese at the deli earlier that day.  She makes me laugh so much.

My kiddo reading to some of her "friends" in her room. She loves books so much, and I love reading them to her.

- I love reading to her.  She loves to read.  She has a room filled with toys, but books are the first thing she goes for when she wakes up.  She loves for us to read to her.  And sometimes she reads back to us, which I also love.

- I love having a buddy with me when I go places.  Yes, sometimes it can be a struggle, but most of the time, I enjoy the company.  We chat about what we are doing and seeing.  We chat about where we’re going.  We chat about who we’ll see.  We chat about everything.  As an introvert who draws energy from alone time, this actually re-energizes me.  When I get to run errands solo, I usually miss my buddy.

- I love singing songs with the kiddo.  I’ve always loved music; I’ve always loved singing.  I really love singing with the kiddo.  She’s had times of being resistant to that lately because she wants to sing alone, but that’s OK.  I love hearing her sing.  I especially love when she makes up her own songs.

- I love dancing with a little one.  I’m not a dancer.  And I won’t dance in public probably ever.  But being silly doing the hot dog dance or swinging around in circles with a little person is way more fun than I ever imagined.

- I love getting to be a kid again.  I’m not a kid all the time.  I do have to be the responsible grown up most of the time, but I love getting to see the world through her eyes and take breaks from responsibility to play pretend games and do fun things with my kiddo.  This week I’ve gone to a pretend ball, eaten loads of pretend food, blown bubbles and played hide-and-seek.  I wouldn’t have done any of that without Lexiana in my life.

- I love seeing my husband as a father.  Without our child, I’d never get to see Chris be the daddy that he is.  It makes me love him even more — and I loved him with all my heart to start with.

- I love having little arms wrap around my neck.  I remember when she was a baby, and I’d just hold her.  I love that she can now hold me back when she wants to.  I also love that sometimes she just wants me to hold her and cuddle her just like I did when she was a baby.

- I love being in this in-between stage.  Right now my child is start part baby, part little girl.  She will tell you that.  Most of the time she wants to be a big girl, but sometimes even she will say, “I’m a big girl, but I can be a baby, too.”  Because she’s 2-1/2.  Sometimes she wants to be treated like a big girl and get to do big girl things.  Other times she wants to be held and coddled like a baby.  She’s caught in that in between place.  It can be frustrating to her (and as a result to me!), but I also know that it won’t be long until she’s fully a big girl and will not want nearly as many snuggle-buggles.  We’re also in that phase where she still thinks my husband and I are funny and cool.  I know it won’t be long until that ends as well.

- I love learning about this little person.  And, my goodness, she is her own little person.  She has her own interests and likes.  Some of them mirror my husband and me like her love for Green Lantern (my husband) or books (more me) or music (both of us).  She loves Mickey Mouse and friends while my husband and I never have had an interest in them (even as kids).  She’s also pretty into sports and recently picked out a football on a trip to the dollar store while my husband and I typically don’t even know what sport is in season.  She doesn’t care much for meat, generally prefers salty snacks to sweet and likes spicy salsa, just like my husband.  She loves breadsticks, M&Ms and spaghetti, just like I do.  However, she also loves pickles, cranberries, refried beans and coconuts which neither my husband nor I like.  There are so many more examples already.  And I love thinking about everything else that will develop in her life as she grows and changes.

- Above all, I really do just love being a mom.  Motherhood brings with it lots of struggles and exhaustion, but it also bring lots of joy and love and laughter.  I love knowing how full my heart can be with love.  I love teary up over sappy things because now I really, truly get them.  I love having the privilege of being called Lexiana’s mommy.  I’m not perfect, she’s not perfect and life isn’t perfect, but it’s good, so good.

So our new system is simply a list of meals for which I have the ingredients.  I have it broken up into three sections.

1. Meals to be eaten by a certain date — this is for things that have fresh ingredients.  Right now, for example, it includes tacos because lettuce is perishable.
2. Meals — this is my general list of meals that includes some new recipes I want to try and some older favorites; they are all things for which I have ingredients.  For example, right now it includes ground beef taquitos, homemade pizza (using scratch-made dough) and spaghetti.
3. Misc. alternatives on hand — this is a list of things that are in the cabinet, freezer or refrigerator that have a longer shelf life and we have.  For example, right now it includes a big frozen pizza (as in big enough for the family), Easy Mac, pancakes and corn dog muffins.

My new meal planning menu is off to a good start.

To figure out how many things to list under meals, I sat down with the calendar and looked at all the days we would need dinners for over the next two weeks.  I needed 11 meals, so that’s what I planned. I organized them into a word processing document on Google Docs that I’ve shared with my husband.  I used to do the same thing with Google Calendar when I scheduled meals.  It works well because if he is giving me input, then he can check it out at work and message me.  Or he can even access it from his phone like when we were waiting for the service to start at church yesterday and talking about what to have for lunch.  I also printed it out and hung it on the side of the fridge just like the old calendar system, again with any new recipes on the list printed and fastened behind it.  That way I can easily and quickly get dinner ideas while in the kitchen, and I can easily cross them off once we eat them.

So far, it’s been working well.  However, it’s also surprised me.  The very first night the new format was in play was last Wednesday.  A meeting I thought I would have that evening got canceled.  I was ready to cook a full dinner for the family.  I showed my husband the list and gave him my top picks.  His response?  “I really want frozen pizza.”  Really?  That was it?  So, that’s what I made.  I healthified it a bit by adding in some carrot and celery sticks on the side.  And, as a bonus, I was able to use the time I would have been cooking when he was entertaining the kiddo to make my grocery list for the next morning’s trip to the store.

The following day, he ended up having to work late, which meant the kiddo and I had dinner without him.  My first thought was to go for delivered pizza.  But, when I asked Lexiana what she wanted, she responded with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  I had gotten some fresh lettuce at the store that morning and decided she’d have PB&J with cheesy pretzels and a banana and I’d have a salad with all the fresh veggies, fresh croutons and fresh salad dressing I’d just purchased.  When my husband got home, he was happy to eat a sandwich made with the 95-cent loaf of bakery bread I’d purchased (I’d used it for our lunch and planned to heat it and serve as a side to pasta for dinner) and some extra sharp cheddar cheese from the deli.  Easy peasy!

The thing is, I think my family is simpler than I was giving them credit for.  I felt like if I couldn’t go whole hog on making dinner then we had few options and they’d not be happy unless we had something warm.  And I was absolutely clueless what to make on the off nights when plans changed or whatever.  I spent days adding to our “meals on hand” list.  I still haven’t listed everything (I want to be careful to not make the list too overwhelming; there is a fine line between having good choices and having too many choices), but I’ve surprised at the things that keep popping into my head.

And it’s got me thinking of making more lists.  I’m thinking of a lunch idea list to get us out of the rut of sandwiches or chicken nuggets.  There are lots of things in my cabinet like soup, pasta (Lipton sides work well for us) or Easy Mac.  And there are things in my freezer like Lean Pockets and chicken taquitos.  None of it has to be fancy or time consuming.  My family has definitely reminded me of this.  We’re not going to eat frozen pizza or PB&J every night.  But, I don’t have to kill myself every night and stress about what we are going to eat.  I like the new system thus far.  It’s working better for us than the old one right now.  I probably could have gone with using the calendar and then adding a list of miscellaneous meals for my own sanity, but just having a plain list is easiest because it keeps everything in one place, on one sheet.

So far, so good!

What both frustrates and amuses me are the times when she will be mad and upset about something like it’s the end of the world when we tell her.  Then a couple of minutes later when it’s time to do said activity, she’s cheerful about it.  For example, I was brushing our dog the other evening right before bed time.  My husband told the kiddo, “When your mom gets done brushing Buckles, it will be time for bed.”

This photo is from May 2010, so it's a bit dated, but it's the first one I think of for kiddo tantrums. This time she was crying because something scared her, but even though she's older now, I still see this face sometimes.

She heaved herself up against the couch in protest.  She insisted she was tired and she wanted to play longer — after all she wasn’t done preparing her pretend food for Thomas the Train.  My husband explained that she was wasting her play time since I was still brushing the dog.  The kid is pretty rational sometimes.  It got through to her.  She asked me to not be done brushing Buckles, yet.  I assured her I hadn’t even started on his ears, so she had time to finish cooking.  (The guy has long, furry ears that take some time and work with the brush.)

She noticed I was finished with brushing the dog before I could even say a word.  She bounded over asking if I was done and if she could give Buckles a treat before going to bed.  She happily gave him a treat and headed off down the hall to her bedroom.  Our battle was over.

These battles are both frustrating and amusing.  I get frustrated because, quite simply, my life would be a whole heck of a lot easier and my stress level a whole darn lot lower if she didn’t insist on fighting me off and on throughout the day on such things.  And they are amusing because she really does seem to have her fit of unhappiness for a minute and then move on happily.  From the parenting side, I know this is her way of testing to see if her fits can let her get her way (sorry, kid, that doesn’t work on us).  Also from the parenting side, I know I’m not just trivially making her do these things.  If I didn’t set a bedtime for her, she’d get tired and cranky.  If I didn’t insist she join me going to the grocery store, we wouldn’t have food for lunch.  If I didn’t force her to brush her teeth, they’d get filled with cavities.

She doesn’t realize these things.  She’s 2-1/2.  She’s not so great at the big picture, yet.  That’s why she has my husband and me.  We help her with these things because we do see the big picture.  She may think we’re trying to be mean; however, we’re just trying to do what is best for her.

As I was “marveling” at her behavior this week, I started thinking about how it mirrors my own spiritual journey.  Sometimes I am such a big spiritual toddler.  Something happens that I don’t like (even reasonably so) and I throw a fit to God.  “Why did you let this happen?  Haven’t we dealt with enough?  This is ridiculous!”  And then later, I come to acceptance.  Sometimes this happens quickly.  Sometimes it has literally taken me years to reconcile myself to some events in my life.  I like to think I’m getting less whiny and fussy about it to God.  But, there are certainly times where I still struggle.

I also know that God has the big picture.  He sees and knows way more than I do (that’s a huge understatement).  He knows what’s coming.  He knows what I need.  I’ve had times where I can look back and see how a big disappointment ended up working out for my good.  I whined and moaned and groaned and proverbially threw myself against the couch dramatically when it happened. But in the end, I complied and everything was better.

The challenge for my inner spiritual toddler and my real-life toddler is to learn to embrace these things from the beginning rather than fight them.  Just like she’s going to have a bedtime every night without any say in the matter, so am I going to have struggles in life that I can’t fix or change.  It just is that way.  It’s hard and it stinks and it makes me want to whine and rant and rave.  I think, however, the more mature way to handle it is to say, “OK.  I don’t understand.  It really, really hurts.  But, I trust You, God, that You know the big picture and You know what’s best.  I’ll go with You through this.”

Just like my child, I still struggle sometimes to be obedient.  While I can guide her gently and patiently, so does my Heavenly Father guide me.  While I can sometimes be more firm with her if she needs it, so is He with me.  I’m on this journey with Him.  Our relationship has grown and changed through the years.  I think I’m making progress, but I’m also still falling short.  And I’m thankful for the gift of the Holy Spirit to help me make up for my shortcomings.  I’m thankful that I can ask Him for help in being obedient and He will give it.  I pray that I can do something similar for my daughter.

For now, I’m just continuing to work on making sure I get past sometimes being a spiritual toddler and continue always moving forward.