Monday, April 4, 2011

A Perfect Day

The morning started out like a perfect Saturday morning should.  I slept until 8:00, enjoyed a little one on one time with dd6, as ds10 and ds3 were still dreaming away, while my husband called offering to take all three kids out to breakfast when he got back from his long run.  Oh, and the sun was shining too!  After the stressful week I’d had the thought of having just a little time alone was enough to make me feel giddy inside.  Just an hour or two of  quiet, time to think – that really appealed to me!  Once the kids found out daddy was taking them to breakfast the house erupted in excitement and joy.  You know, the kind that you just love to watch…pure, kid happiness.

Ds3 couldn’t wait for me to help him get dressed.  You would think my next discovery was one to celebrate.  Not so quick.  I realized his diaper was dry – completely dry.  But my heart dropped.  You see, this child is trying to win the award for the most difficult child to potty train – EVER.  And when he wakes up totally dry, once he “lets it go” (which is usually an hour or so after he wakes) his diaper is immediately flooded and leaks with the slightest amount of pressure – falling, sitting, mommy unknowingly picking him up, etc.  I knew he could not go with daddy and risk that happening while sliding down the red tunnel in McDonald’s play area.  His dad and siblings would be mortified if it did.  I can just hear the screams from the other children in the play area now.

So, I lovingly and calmly announced, “Oh buddy, you are dry.  Let’s go try to potty.”  And then what I was expecting became a reality.  He said a line I have heard more times than I can count – literally.

“No, mom.  I don’t want to.”

“But come on, sweetie.  You won’t be able to go with daddy if you don’t pee-pee first.”

Tears, screams and a few stomps followed that comment.  Then he was in a full on fit.  Once again I found myself doing everything I could to convince him to try, but it was no use.  I gave up convincing, and he gave up screaming (but only to go back to his bed and pout).

My previously giddy mood was not so giddy anymore.  And there went my chance to  have some quiet time to pray/read and go for a run before the forecasted 18 – 20mph winds hit that afternoon.  And then I began to pout.  “Lord, this stinks.  I really needed a break this morning.  It was what I needed.  And now I am here with this increasingly frustrating child while the others are out having a good time!”  Ugly, isn’t it?  But that’s how I felt.

Then it hit me.  (One of my favorite bloggers calls it a “spirit tug.”)  I saw that I was about to walk down the path of self indulgent pity.  I hate it when I do that.  And it is something I do too often.  Oh, how ashamed I felt.  Frequently, I am most concerned with my happiness and things going my way than I am with walking with the Lord and allowing Him to lead the dance.  So, almost as soon as I had allowed my circumstances to effect my ‘happiness,’ I decided to just go with what God had planned for my day instead.  And in case you are wondering, that kind of thinking is not the mental default setting for a classic type A/first born child like me.  My reward?  I was serenaded at breakfast by the cutest three year old belting out “Jesus Loves Me” followed by him asking me if my shoulder was “all better” and then a sweet kiss.  Maybe I am beginning to learn that my definition of perfect and His definition are not quite the same.  But I choose to believe He knows best.

1 comment:

  1. Yay! I'm your first comment! Welcome to the blogosphere, girl.

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