As we walked into church yesterday, I heard someone whisper , “Look at Aly, she’s a little girl.” It made me well up with tears because I couldn’t deny it. Pumpkin is a full-fledged little girl.
As has been our struggle for a month or so now, we spent the hour long service trying to find a balance between Pumpkin’s need for freedom and everyone else’s desire to worship in relative peace (while still trying to get something out of the service ourselves). Quite the juggling act, if I do say so myself. We’ve tried trapping her between us in the aisle, sitting in the back by the music, walking her around – all to no avail. As you can imagine, keeping a 13-month old contained for an hour is a near-impossible feat. And when the older kids come in from Children’s Church, sugared up and ready to run, there is no more “near” about it.
My mom (also our priest), recognizing all of us young parents’ being a little stressed over our respective children running amok, made an announcement that really hit home with me. She told the entire congregation that we should welcome the children into God’s home and that since they are children we should expect them to act like children. What really stuck with me was this line: “it is not our job to make them act like adults, that will happen soon enough.” Again – tears.
Since I am aware I cannot just spend Pumpkin’s entire childhood crying for its fleeting nature, I made a concious decision to instead truly savor every moment of it. It is almost laughable to think about the truth behind mom’s announcement – why in the world would we want these beautiful little souls to act like adults? Why would we want them to lose that wonder, that joy, that hope? What we should do instead is to let them allow us to act more like children (and I believe Jesus would agree – wasn’t it him who said something about the faith of a child).
This weekend was my perfect opportunity to start practice what I’m preaching here. As most of you know, I have a tendency toward being stressed out over the most trivial things. All of that energy and time is usually a complete waste. This weekend I made several concious efforts to put that aside and really be in the moment with Pumpkin and it is amazing the difference it made in me. Now, I realize it is sad that it had to be an “effort,” but 31-years of high-strung doesn’t fly out the door overnight. Luckily, Pumpkin is a great teacher when it comes to enjoying life.
So Saturday was Day 1 of “Stop and Smell the Roses Mommy Bootcamp” and it was glorious. We did a whole lot of nothing other than playing and napping (even ME). In the afternoon, we blew up the baby pool, stripped down the baby, and let her splash and play – no perfectly positioned swim diaper, no scolding the dogs for drinking out of her pool while she played, no stress at all. To top all that off we shared her first sticky popsicle, covered in purple juice and as happy as larks. After a bubble bath, we ordered pizza and, although I did have to take a deep breath here since she was freshly-clean, I even found the joy in watching Pumpkin smear sauce from her first piece of pizza all over her still-wet curls.
What I learned from the first day of what I hope is a lifelong training by my Pumpkin is that the five extra minutes I might have to spend at the end of the day cleaning up a mess or the brief distraction she may be in a crowded church are well worth the happiness she brings to our lives and that not only are these moments fleeting, but they are the moments life is made of. These are the stories of her life, being made every day, and I’m blessed to be a part of them. And let’s be honest, what better do I have to do than wipe off that beautiful face (and take a million pics of it – see all the photos from our weekend of doing nothing)?
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