I told him for the 13th time to not throw his sisters boots. With the selective hearing that many of our children have, he seemed to have not heard me. Or yet, didn’t want to hear my sound advice that the boot would soon hit the rooftop and remain there forever. Into a fossil for all to gaze upon in wonder of just who threw it up there and why.
The lone pink sparkly boot landed on top of the playground roof, and I immediately made the most important phone call of my life.
” Um yes, this is Rachel Haggerty, a patient of yours. I need to make an appointment to get my tubes tied as soon as possible. “
The shrieks of terror in my daughters voice permeated to the entire city, and surrounding cites. These boots were her most loved item in her four year old life. Rain, shine, snow, or sun these were her shoes of choice. It was too far out of my reach, so I gave up quickly. The friend that I met there was trying so hard to appease her, as I was assuring her I would buy her a new pair when I actually was cold outside. A pair that didn’t smell like a dead snake in a trash can. These boots have been through a war with this child.
” Mom, you’ll have to wash my boots because I went into the creek with them. I think there is a spider in there. “
Calming our daughter from her lost forever shoe the Holy Spirit spoke to me:
” This won’t matter in heaven. What matters is the legacy you leave your children. What matters is how you raise them. What matters is ME in you, and in them. Teach them about me.”
So, since then I have lived life this way. Or at least I have tried. As Mothers we get so wrapped up in the days events being the end of our life. The last nerve we have left. The first gray hair. When in reality it won’t matter in eternity that you snapped at your children for helping themselves to the cheerios right before dinner was served. What will matter in that you fed them with love, while sipping wine. ( or not. )
What will matter is that they are loved.
My motto came into full effect tonight. I was really tested you know. My nose was opened in a way that I didn’t prefer, and my reflexes got practice. I mean, it’s not everyday I get diarrhea on my brand new dress.
Throughout the day our youngest daughter had the runs.Let’s just be honest here. My baby sister graduated from High School, and we were out to dinner to celebrate that she was a better student than all of us combined.
With Adah sitting on my lap, naturally eating my food ( which is why I seem to weigh 99 lbs still ) I feel an abrupt breaking of wind, with resulted in my dress being christened in a real stinky way. I know it’s new, but I would rather break it in a different way. Perhaps dancing? Spilling wine on it? Running for President in it? Something else.
I picked her up quickly and set her upon my hip bone that protrudes from my body anyway, kind of like a baby made shelf. Why I did that I have no idea, as the fecal matter began to make it’s way all the way onto my flesh. There is really no exfoliate like it. It’s ORGANIC. No GMO. Gluten free. You just must get past the stench.
Beauty is pain they always say. Or it’s just s#$t on your hip.
I think I get so stressed out about all the details of parenting. When in retrospect, yes they matter. Yes our words and our choices in parenting matter. But what we need to focus on is what will matter in eternity. With ourselves and with our children. The things we will have to answer to, and take account for.
Will it matter in heaven that Adah pooped on my dress? Nah. In fact I’m positive Jesus was getting a good laugh. What will matter is how I handled the situation. Did I huff and puff and freak out? Or did I just calmly clean my dress off and assure my kid that crap happens?
I’m teaching myself to relax more in my parenting style. If I don’t I think I’ll choke on my own words and fear of the future. I need room to breathe, room to trust Him that I am doing my best in all this crap, pun intended.
PS- Cheap diapers are cheap for a reason.
A final tribute to the pink boots. You were so loved, even on this day when it was at least 90 * outside.
Rhema didn’t mind your wool insert, but her feet rebelled against you. Holding up their sweat glands in revenge to the warmth that you provided.
