So I wrote half of this a few weeks ago, but I was concerned I was too grouchy to post it, so I finished it today… hopefully on a happier note.
Somewhere along Thursday of last week, the wheels fell off my fast. I noticed on Friday when I was a grouch-monster, but I tried to ignore the signs: lack of peace, general unhappiness in the back of my mind, mild agitation at anything, not feeling connected to God… whenever I start praying things like, “Aggghhh, LORD help me! I can’t BELIEVE I have to deal with THIS.” – Precious isn’t it? So sweet. Those are the signs.
I think it started when I looked at my old to-do list from the week prior and realized NONE OF THE TO-DO’s HAD BEEN DONE.
Somewhere inside me, a part of me died. The type A part, the controlling part. The part of my person that likes to check things off of lists because it makes me feel so very happy and worthy inside. A voice in my head said, “how could you let this happen?” And I attempted to revive it.
Here is what I look like when I begin operating from my to-do list self:
She’s gorgeous right? F.A.N.T.A.S.T.I.C.
If there was a lineup of Disney characters, I’m pretty sure my kids would pick that one. YAY, I want HER for my mommy!
Sad, that part of myself feels most worthy when I’ve accomplished something that I think is important, not what God thinks is important.
Not most worthy when I take the time to let my kid dottle in the car, then the garage then in the hallway asking a million questions all the way to the sink, where I really wanted her five hours ago so we could wash the germs off our hands from preschool! We can’t all die of the Spanish Influenza here! A mother’s gotta have priorities. I saw that episode of Downton Abbey, that stuff was REAL.
My kids care nothing of germs.
They put stuff in their mouths like it’s meant to be there. I’ve seen them on more then one occasion either lick, or rub the bottoms of their shoes on the cheeks of their faces like it’s a soft velveteen rabbit.
Do you know the reaction I had to this?!?
Sometimes I think God allows germs because mother’s need to relax, and realize that we are not actually the boss of this world. One more than one occasion, I’ve asked him, “Why do you give kids the ability to have hands to touch things and then put them in their mouth, until they can be responsible humans?” One of my children used to smear poop, as in THEIR OWN POOP all across the Pottery Barn White slats of their crib. I asked God why he allowed this, but it wasn’t a nice asking, so perhaps that’s why he never answered that one.
I care too much about germs. I’m pretty sure it’s something God is going to have to give me grace in someday and teach me how to just live and trust him and walk in is gentle sprit (that christianese sentence made me cringe a little inside). But germs are like Satan’s arrows at my heart. I will kill germs. Like ALL of them. In my mind germs = (in no specific order) hospitalization, death, the Spanish Influenza, guilt over not getting every single vaccine ever because I thought there were too many/ maybe they are dangerous, the flu in my house where all my kids are sick and so am I and nothing gets checked off my to-do list… there it is again. Germs in my house = me not accomplishing what I want to accomplish, my greatest fear apparently. And there I am again.
And yet, we all did get sick, a few weeks later – and guess what? It was totally fine. I didn’t get everything checked off my to-do list, however in the process, I got to do a lot of other really cool, and more meaningful things. I watched each of my kids get a fever (102.9 of course) and have family pray for them and send video texts of encouragement. I watched my own son begin to use the phrase, “I pray for you”. He now tells me that he prays for me, his daddy, and his sisters with Jesus in his sleep.
Other positives that came out of having germs in my house:
We don’t typically watch tv, only an occasional Netflix of Micky Mouse Clubhouse or a Veggie Tale. That being said, when my kids are so sick that they just stand and stare at me in the kitchen over playing with toys, I don’t feel like I’m robbing them of their childhood by putting on an extra movie or two. My older daughter was in movie heaven. I GOT SO MUCH DONE!
My son had a raspy voice for three days and sounded adorable when he said, “mom, I love you so much!”
Because the other two were sick first, the oldest girl and I got some much needed one-on-one time to eat sandwiches and face time daddy (normally face-timing anyone results in a conflict over who’s face gets the time;-)
This little miss only wanted to be held and cuddled and snuggled and hold her blankee, so I got to wear her again while I cooked dinner and did chores. It was fun mommy bonding time pretending she was little again – to which I say, Yes, she is still little and MY baby, although she attends the walker-toddler class on Saturday night church, a detail I prefer to overlook.
This one spent an entire three days not talking. Instead of raspy voice, she preferred to whisper and say, “I can’t talk”. Normally, this girl has quite an opinion about things, but these three days, she simply looked at me and nodded, “yes mom”. It was really nice to have complete and instant cooperation. And all the mom’s of 3 year old’s said, “AMEN!”
And, even though they were sick, we still took them to the cement slides so they could at least get out of the house. We figured germs wouldn’t transfer to the concrete so bad since our hands were on the sacks.
All in all, I actually liked our sick days, and got way more done then I ever would have dreamed. I was even bored at one point. I haven’t been bored in over three years. That just doesn’t happen people.
So, what do I know? That there are little wonderful presents to be had, even in the company of germs.
Thanks for reading.