Before I Was A Mommy...

Before I was a Mommy (in no particular order):

Before I was a Mommy...I never knew the full meaning of the word "wonder."

I never thought it would be possible to stare at the same person for hours upon hours and never get bored.

I never knew what it meant to be truly exhausted.

I never knew what a miracle a woman's body truly is.

I never fully appreciated the value of a full night's sleep.

I ate hot meals.

Before I was a Mommy...I used to say things like, "My kids will NEVER act like that!"

I should have kept my mouth shut about other people's kids.

I daydreamed about the wonderful Mommy I would be.

I didn't understand just how far my emotions would be tested.

I never stuffed frozen cabbage leaves in my bra.

Before I was a Mommy...I had a flat tummy and zero stretch marks.

I didn't know how fascinating a leaf of grass was.

I didn't know what squished up pears and bananas tasted like.

I didn't know what the best stain remover was.

I read lots of books.

Before I was a Mommy...I used to think I had it all together.

My house was clean.

I never laughed as much as I do now.

I didn't understand what it would be like to be so proud of someone.

I didn't cry at every sappy movie and commercial on TV.

Before I was a Mommy...I never knew how truly protective I would be.

I didn't wear Strawberry Shortcake band-aids to a pool party.

I didn't know that my heart could be so full of love.

I didn't know that I could have ever created something so wonderful.

I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that I could grow a person inside my body.

Before I was a Mommy...I never knew I could feel so much frustration.

I never knew every color of every Disney princess's dress.

I never knew that someone so small could love me with such a big huge love.

I never gave out butterfly kisses, eskimo kisses, and ladybug kisses on a nightly basis.

I could sleep as long as I wanted on a Saturday morning.

Before I was a Mommy...The only thing I left the house with was my purse. And it was a small one.

I didn't have precious artwork on my refrigerator.

My couch cushions stayed exactly where I put them.

I didn't see tiny hand prints and fingerprints on every shiny surface and window.

I didn't give a second thought to where every pair of scissors was in the house.

Before I was a Mommy...I wondered why the first day of Kindergarten was such a big deal.

I didn't jump in mud puddles.

I didn't truly know the repercussions of "Oh, I'll have just one more small slice of cheesecake."

I was never asked such challenging questions.

I was never hugged so much.

Before I was a Mommy...I couldn't identify what was in a bowel movement. (I know, gross!)

I was never peed or pooped on (well, by a tiny human anyway.)

I never picked any one's nose.

I never rubbed any one's tummy for hours trying to get them to pass gas.

I learned the hard way not to hold a baby over your head after they've just been fed.

Before I was a Mommy...I never fully understood unconditional love.

I never thought my heart could be so full.

I didn't really understand how fast "time flies."

I never knew I'd be so sad about time flying.

I never knew how much I would want to hold onto my kids, and let them go at the same time.

I never knew how much there is to learn about love and life.

Now that I'm a Mommy, I am very much changed. I'm so thankful for this precious gift of Motherhood. It's the hardest and most rewarding job I've ever had. Please, God, help me to be exactly the kind of mommy that my kids need me to be. Help me be the mommy you've created me to be. Help me to always lean on you and never forget that my children are precious gifts from you. Thank you for trusting me with them. Thank you for loving me, Your daughter, so much that you would allow me to feel even a fraction of the love that you feel for me when I hold my kids. I will do my best to raise them to be Godly women, fully devoted to you. Amen.

It's Just Stuff

Lately, my three year old has become very destructive. I have no idea where this is coming from, but let me tell you, it has been trying my emotions like no other. I was standing at the sink doing dishes the other day and heard a weird banging noise coming from the dining room where Sarah was eating breakfast. When my brain registered that this was not a good sound to be hearing in the dining room, I walked in to see what she was doing. Well, she was banging her fork into the surface of the table over and over again making puncture wounds and chipping the finish off with every strike. Can we say steam and smoke coming out of my ears?

I wish I could say I was calm. I wish I could say I handled myself with extreme self-control. Alas, I can not. I freaked out! I yelled...loudly. I made her cry, and I am not proud of that. I was so angry at the fact that she ruined our table that I forgot I was dealing with a fragile 3-year old little spirit. I know that she needs to be punished and learn that destroying things in our home is not acceptable, but I really wish I would have handled it differently.

Have you ever done something like that? It's the worst feeling in the world because not only did you hurt your child's feelings, but you still have to punish them so they know that being destructive is not OK. On top of that, you are upset about your "stuff" being ruined. Is the table still usable? Yes, of course. But, the table is special to me for reasons that might seem silly to someone else and I was really really bummed about it being scratched up.

Some of you are probably thinking, well if your table was so darn precious, then why didn't you have a tablecloth on it? Or protective tabletop pads? Or at least place mats? Well, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. My reasons for hating tablecloths and place mats are probably pretty stupid, but I have my reasons. I guess the lesson learned is that I might have to endure a nice, vinyl tablecloth for a while and fore go the pretty table runner, candles, etc. until my kids are older. My kids are extremely messy eaters (still), and I have no desire to be doing an extra load of laundry every day or endure a few days of a nasty, smelly, stained tablecloth on the table. I also have no desire to have an entire cupboard in my kitchen dedicated to tablecloths and place mats! I know, might sound stupid, but those are just a couple reasons why I'm even typing about this right now.

I've also realized that when these issues arise, sometimes I let my anger run-a-muck and I start complaining about how this house is too small to have a kitchen table that I don't really care about (where the kids can eat and do their art projects, etc.), and then a nice formal table. Right now, my nice formal table is the only table we can eat at as a family every night. So, I guess I have to be willing to sacrifice the "good table" for laughs and jokes with the fam. When it comes right down to it, it seems like that's not really a sacrifice.

Am I the only woman who's ever felt like this before? There are other things that Sarah has ruined lately that haven't been so important, but she still needs to realize that no matter what it is, it's not hers to ruin. I realize that she's only three and that some things are not done with malice. I have to handle those situations differently (after determining what her intentions really were.) It's tough sometimes, really tough. Kind of like the time when Hailey broke a necklace that was my Great-Grandma's. To make it even worse, my husband thought it was just one of her dress-up necklaces and vacuumed up all the beads. Yeah, I cried. I did find one bead under our bed a little while later and I still have it in my jewelry box.

The bottom line of this entire post is that "it's JUST stuff." Why do we get so attached to the things of this world? Well, maybe because some things are attached to memories; some things are expensive and maybe we worked really hard to pay for it; some things are rare, or homemade and really special to us...the list goes on and on. In the end though, when we leave this earth we can't take a single thing with us. It doesn't matter how much "stuff" we have, how special it is, how rare it is. Nothing on this earth is as important as our relationships...with our kids, our families, our friends, but most importantly, with Jesus. We need to be working harder at protecting our children's hearts than our stupid dining sets. (In my case, anyway.) Am I still upset when I look at the table? Sure. But I am dealing with it in my own heart. I will never again mention it to Sarah unless she does it again. Although I really hope she doesn't.

Next time my kids ruin something, which I'm sure they will, I will try my best to be slow to anger and discipline them properly and effectively, without yelling. I thank God every day for his grace. As parents, I think we all need a double portion!