After a night of dinner and shopping, Sal Gal and I sat in her driveway on Saturday night for at least a good hour and got all snotty. Sometimes life calls for laughter, sometimes it calls for tears, and sometimes it calls for snot. And Saturday night called for all three. Growing up, my mom (and dad) always made everything look so easy. If the world wasn't perfect, we surely didn't know it. I'm thankful for her hard work and determination and her ability to make being a mother and wife look like an enjoyable breeze.
As a kid, you don't realize what makes life 'life'. You never noticed when Aunt So and So got irritated with Uncle Somebody during Sunday dinner. You didn't notice, or at least didn't mind, having mac-n-cheese as a side dish two nights in a row. You couldn't understand the importance of changing into your 'play clothes' before going outside to play in the sand pile. And you certainly didn't put off having a friend sleep over just because you still had that same Holly Hobbie bedspread.
As an adult and now a mother myself, I realize life isn't always perfect. There are valleys and mountaintops, and God has assigned seasons for everything. Sometimes you find yourself praying for a certain season of your life to pass, while other times you're praying that it never does. Life itself is unpredictable. But it's finding joy in the little everyday things that makes it all worth while.
And now that I've sounded like some corny Hallmark card that no one would buy and has therefore been placed on the discount shelf, I'd like to share the following...
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the “good” living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television, and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”
There would have been more “I love you’s.” More “I’m sorry’s.”
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute… look at it and really see it… live it… and never give it back.
Stop sweating the small stuff. Don’t worry about who doesn’t like you, who has more, or who’s doing what.
Instead, let’s cherish the relationships we have with those who DO love us.
Let’s think about what God HAS blessed us with.
One of my favorite parts of my Mother's Day weekend was the way M to the Izz-A presented me with my gift from Kate. For the past several years, he's seen me put gifts into gift bags and then stuff the top with tissue paper to give it the finishing touch. I'm not a wrapping paper kind of girl. I 've never been able to fold the ends down smooth enough to look presentable. So I resort to bag and tissue paper. He has come a very long way as far as gifts and cards are concerned - from no card at all, to the generic ones with a random teddy bear on the front and a two-line rhyming poem inside, to now taking the time to write a little something extra before signing his name...he's obviously been listening to my
So as he hands me the gift bag, I notice that it has a big "Happy Birthday" written across the front. I look at him with a question mark glowing from my eyes and he explains that he thought he would do our family a favor and save the money on buying a new bag and just reuse one of the many we have stashed on the top shelf in our laundry room from previous occasions. (to be commended, I guess) He even had tissue paper coming out of the top of the bag, or at least it looked like tissue paper, at first glance. As I leaned in for a closer look I realized it wasn't quite. Since we had no tissue paper in the house, he used his industrial strength paper towels from the garage and arranged them into a beautiful fan-like spray and placed them in the top of the bag. At this point, it wouldn't have mattered what was in the bag because I was dying with laughter. If you know Matt, this story fits him perfectly. It's who he is. Inside the bag was a gift certificate to spend the day at a spa, getting pampered from head to dry heels...err, toe. And if I'm honest, he's probably just tired of seeing me soak my feet only to then go to town on my heels with my Sally Hansen pumice stone.
Hearing Kate tell me "Happy Mother's Day" in her sweet little voice was the highlight of my day. I never dreamed of all the joy this little girl would bring. Thank you Lord, for my sweet little angel.
Hope everyone had a great Mother's Day!