We stopped at one of our local farms this morning, the four of us. The kids and Lucas went exploring, I went inside to check out prices on grass fed meats... tonight we at a dinner that was entirely local {chicken, potatoes and corn on the cob from our CSA} and I thought about Hyacynth and how proud she would be of me.
I get to see her in a few weeks. Like actually see her. And I'm so excited. My mind needs space, and my arms need to hug that lady.
So today I picked up some pumpkin and chocolate whoopie pies for the four of us to share. We sat on a bench and gobbled them up. Then it was time to go home {about a 5-10 minute drive} and Fynn lost it because I had forgotten the water bottles. And then I said I wouldn't go buy him a bottle of water because we were five minutes from home, and really, I knew in my heart that he just wanted the bottle of the water bottle to make something out of it when we got home. So there we were, dragging one screaming five year old out of the farm, me wearing my "All good things are wild and free" Thoreau shirt, looking like a crazy woman to anyone overhearing us because I probably sounded like I was denying my son water. All good things are wild and free indeed...
Then we found some half full water bottles in the car.
Problem solved. Hugs were given. Apologies all around.
And then we got home, and lunch was on the table, and I didn't ask Paige what color cup she wanted. And she was tired. So I apologized, told her if she wanted to switch cups, she could... she didn't want to do that... she wanted me to do that... and when I said I wouldn't because I already poured the milk and didn't want to wash another cup... she threw herself on the kitchen floor and sobbed while the rest of us at our lunch.
Then she stomped upstairs, without her lunch, and laid herself in bed to wail.
Seriously. Stellar parenting/communication/tantrums today.
After lunch I went upstairs and curled in behind Paige on her bed. Her gigantic, bigger than her four year old self, purple pillow pet unicorn covered us as we snuggled. She stared at me. Stared. In this sad, tired, pitiful way. And all I could do was tell her mommy loves her. And the girl who rarely takes naps anymore fell asleep with a little smile on her face and I stayed there with her. Looking at her long lashes. Her perfect little doll face. How on earth did Lucas and I make someone so beautiful... two people so beautiful and perfect!?!
Creating them was probably the last perfect thing we've done as parents. That's not a bad thing. We are imperfectly perfect, as far as I'm concerned. Our flaws make us who we are, who God made us. Our parenting is the best we are able to do at this very moment, and from that we learn and do better the next day. And while there are things we can work on, try to change and challenge ourselves, imperfections are key to a healthy, well adjusted life. So for the kids and us to have imperfect days, that end up with water coloring on the porch before dinner, and a healthy, yummy meal that only three out of the four of us ate, maybe an accidental headbutt from some rough housing after dinner? I'll take those imperfect days because we learn from them. They bring us closer to God and the whole goal of life. To give and receive grace. To just live, and not be caught up in perfect.
Perfectly imperfect. Yes, yes. I've had so many afternoons like the one you mention, where the temptation to say oh this is awful is there, and lately - in the last few years - I've been better at trying to breathe through it and to receive the grace such days carry. Not all the time, of course. Thank you for reminding me to do that. xox
ReplyDeleteImperfection is the real beauty of life I think. I realize how uptight I get when the house has actually been forced into order and dusted. I can't move. If Elliot's been quiet all day long that means he was probably bored and lonely. I used to strive for the highest ideal I could muster, but now I'm learning how to relax and let the breeze come in the windows and fill me up with peace, while the kitchen sink stays overflowing with dirty dishes. I can't solve everyone's problems, not even my own. And in the imperfect day, there is so much room for God, for forgiveness, and for a renewal of love.
ReplyDeleteThat you recognize these things makes you a rare and beautiful person.
Hi friend! Thank you so much for your loving comment on my post the other day. Did I ever tell you how blessed I feel to have met you? I'm sure I have, but I feel the need to keep saying so. :) You are a wonderful mother and friend...perfectly imperfect in the best way.
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