Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Chill out...

I recently was at a baby shower where a guest gave the mommy a journal. She told the mommy that it has been one of the most treasured items in their house. She said when her boys were little she kept a journal in the kitchen, and every funny little comment they made, she would jot it down. Now that her boys are grown, they come home and love to look through the journal, laughing and making fun of each other over silly things they have said. I love that idea. Unfortunately I don't think I've written ANY of ours down! Actually I take that back. I HAD written a bunch of funny things the kids had been saying on my myspace account, but deleted the account a few weeks ago, and only just now remembered that I was going to save my journaling! Aaaagh! Anyway, I'm inspired. I want to remember the good, the bad and the ugly... all the little pieces that go into mothering, that we so often forget...

I'll start my "journaling" with the ugly. It can only go up from here, right? This isn't a terribly ugly one, just semi-ugly with the reminder to have fun and cherish every moment we have with our little ones. And hopefully it will encourage other mom's out there not to take life so seriously, to laugh with your kids, and believe the best about them. ....

It was our first day of snow. I was worn-out and the kids had been pushing my buttons all day. Reagan especially. She had been sassy and mouthy, and my patience was at an all-time low. Now looking back it wasn't horrible, it was more of a subtle rebellion coming in the form of questioning everything I said. For example if I said, "Oh, what pretty blue water!" She would have said, "Mom, it's not blue. It's blue-green!" That kind of thing. Add that up over the course of an entire day, and it starts to get to you...

Brad came home from work, we ate dinner, and then decided to take a family drive to downtown Coeur d' Alene, so we could look at all the Christmas lights. Everything was going great. The snow was absolutely beautiful! It was coming down so hard and fast that within minutes it had covered everything in a beautiful blanket of white. As we were driving along both Brad and I were commenting on how gorgeous the big snowflakes were, and how clean and pretty everything looked. We turned and asked the kids, "Isn't this beautiful guys?"

Reagan pipes up from the backseat, "It looks like HELL!"

My daughter did not just say that!!! Brad and I look at each other with wide eyes. I try to remain calm and rational, and ask, "Excuse me... what did you say Reagan?"

"I SAID... it looks like hell!"

Dead silence. I'm in shock. Brad's trying not to laugh. But to me this is very serious. I'm wondering where she's heard this kind of talk, who she's hanging out with in school... I'm wondering what our future is going to be looking like when she's a teenager... You know, mom things... I turn around, and say, "I don't care what your little friends say, you will NOT talk like that in our house. You are in BIG trouble. When we get home you are getting soap in your mouth!"

"But mom, I just said, It looks like hell out there!"

"Hell?!?" I say with total frustration. "Reagan, you don't even know what your talking about. Hell is hot! This is cold! I'm tired of your attitude today. Just stop talking."

"Well," she says, not even batting an eye-lash, and without an ounce of remorse, "it DOES. It looks like hell."

"Is this child dense? Is she not getting it? I open my mouth to let her have it again, when all of the sudden Brad has an epiphany. He gently and calmly says, "Reagan, do you mean HAIL? Do you think the snow looks like hail?"

Reagan now treats us like WE are the dense ones. "That's what I already said dad! It looks like hail... doesn't it?"

Oh my word! What is wrong with me?!? When did I become so serious? Why did I automatically assume the worst? This, of course, was followed by profuse apologizing and a fun light-hearted evening... But it got me thinking, I don't want to look back one day when my little babies are grown and out of the house and feel like I missed out on some of the best joys of motherhood: laughing together, listening to their stories, playing together, finding teachable moments to speak into their lives, and believing the best about them... really savoring every moment, not waiting for certain stages to pass, or new ones to begin. So, my challenge to you (and myself) is to cherish every moment, even the ones where we as parents mess up. Ask for forgiveness, let them know that mommy's and daddy's make mistakes. Some more often than others! =0)