The Power of Goodness

I don't get it. How can a sliver, a moment, a second of goodness take away hours of grief? I just lay next to my baby girl. She was hard today. Not more than usual...just a normal toddler. Screaming, crying, throwing her food at me. You know, the typical day. But tonight, in a simple, solitary second, everything was good. I lay next to her as she drifted off to sleep. I pulled myself up just enough to see if her eyes were truly closed. And then it happened. A sliver of good. Her pale skin with closed eyelids. It was a second of hope. Of joy. Of peace. And that one, single second, will get me through dozens of days.
My sister has a teenage boy much like my own. She sweats, cries and runs herself ragged trying to raise him. She puts her everything in to raising a child that doesn't seem to care. And then one day she received a text message. "Thanks mom. I love you." A sliver of goodness and suddenly the hard times don't seem that bad.  Just. Like. That.
I guess I do have faith that good will prevail. It has too. There is corruption and cruelty at every level. There is heartache, headache and harassment.  We see betrayal, backbiting and banishment.  I sometimes feel as if there is no hope. Until I realize the power of good.  Evil will not win. It cannot. Because in every sliver of goodness, is a piece of the almighty God. He will win. It may not seem possible, but it has to be.  Simply because God can do more good in one second, than men can do in years. And He will continue to do so. If we only stop and look. Over and over again.

Those Awkward Times When You Realize You Aren't As Young As You Used To Be

1. You are invited to playgroup with all of the young moms at your church.  You glance around the room and smile awkwardly. You have just realized that if every person in this room were to get pregnant, you would be the only one to qualify for a high risk pregnancy due to advanced maternal age.

2. Your husband texts you from work. "Hey honey. So I went to the gym today and worked out. However, I threw my back out getting dressed." Hmmmm..when you need ibuprofen after getting dressed in the morning, it's not looking good.

3. Day after day you stare at the cute young parents walking to pick their kids up from school. You are silently embarrassed. You think to yourself from your air conditioned car, "yeah...I did that too...10 years ago. Jerk."

4. My husband got a job offer because someone told him that they  were hoping for a "more experienced looking" candidate.

5. You're three year old can outrun you. Granted, I have nerve damage down my right leg. But come on...she's THREE!

6.  You used to wake up several times night to feed a crying baby.  Now you wake up several times a night to go to the bathroom.

7. On the same note, during an amazingly terrible karaoke rendition of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" at a Christmas party, you abruptly cut your act short because you are praying no one can see the urine running down your legs.

8. As long as we are being honest here...the rebel in you decides to take your rebelliousness to the next level. Seriously. Wait for it....just wait. Yep. That's right. We are staying up past 10:00 tonight. Not sure what we are going to do. But we are doing it.

A Talk With My Teenager

It was dinnertime. Dinnertime and chaos are synonymous at our house. I had kids all over the kitchen whining and spilling food in all sorts of random places. I looked out to the backyard. It was green, breezy and quiet. I silently slipped outside by myself and hoped no one would see me eating alone is peace.
Awwww.
This was the life.
I then gazed back through the sliding glass door and saw my teenage son. My heart knew I wanted something much more than a moment of peace. I wanted my son to talk to me.
I beckoned him outside to sit with me. He complied. Not willingly, but he complied.
I stared at him in silence for a moment. You see, he really has nothing to talk to me about. But I have so much I wish I could say. I would have said,
"remember all those times we used to laugh together?"
"remember when we slid down the stairs in sleeping bags?"
"remember when I accidentally killed your beta fish?"
remember, remember, remember...
But he has grown.
He's a teenager.
And very good at it.
But I had him here, on this gorgeous night, all by myself.
 I decided to tackle the elephant in the room.
"So when did you start not liking me?"
He looked at me.
And smiled.
I love that smile.
"Ummm..it was probably sometime in eighth grade."
I've always loved his honesty. That kid is as honest as the day is long.
I respond,
"so you haven't liked me for about 18 months?"
"yeah..probably."
"Well,  you're brother still likes me and he just turned 13. How much longer do you think I have with him until he starts not liking me either?"
He smiled again.
"I'd say...you're lucky if you get another year."
I smiled back.
It was a beautiful night. I silently thanked God that my son was talking to me. Even if it was just about his dislike for me.
Moms of teenagers learn very quickly to be grateful for anything.
I used to enjoy his voice, but I've learned to accept a glance in my direction. I used to be a welcome guest in his room at night, but I am now grateful that he lets me in the door if only to say goodnight.
I used to take him out to dinner, but now I'm just glad he says thank you when I bring dinner home to him. I used to love when he said, "I love you too," but I know...deep down, he kindof still likes me. He may possibly even love me.
He has just temporally forgotten.

Is It Worth Growing Up?

I slipped half consciously into her pale teal and purple room. She was laying beautifully in her bed. I felt prompted to ask her about how she felt about growing up. She stared at me. She is 10 years old as of last month. We chatted about what the next few years has in store for her. As I was talking, her little chin started quivering.
"Oh, no. does this scare you?" I asked.
She nodded that little tween head and couldn't speak...afraid if she did, tears would surely come. She was desperately trying not to cry.
My heart was aching.
I told her my story about how I didn't want to grow up either. I felt the same way. I wished God had made me a boy because then I wouldn't have to deal with all of the unfair girl stuff.
Her chin continued to quiver.
Her dad walked in at that moment.
"What's wrong babe?"
She could no longer contain the tears.
"I don't want to grow up," she feebly replied.
He hugged her. Again and again.
I wiped her tears and spoke.
"Hey, I know it's not fun...but guess what? It's all worth it. Do you know why?"
"Why?" she whispered as she continued to wipe those innocent tears.
"Because one day, you will be sitting on a bed with your own little Ne Ne. And you're going to realize that you wouldn't give up that moment for anything in the world."
She smiled.
We went to bed.
The next day, I was busy sending some random text message to some random person. It was so important I can't even remember what it was. But she kept holding up her pinky finger wanting me to promise something.
"Just a minute, just a minute," I hastily replied.
I finally turned to her and asked what was so important.
She stuck her pinky in my face and told me that I had to pinky promise her something.
"It depends," I answered with a half smile.
"Promise me that growing up is worth it?"
I looked around. I laughed out loud.
I pointed her to one corner of the kitchen where the baby was licking a melted popsicle off the table. In another corner a toddler boy was having a tantrum. A thirteen year old boy was bored and asking what we were going to do for the rest of the day. A fifteen year old boy was cooking ramen in the dirty kitchen.
I held up my pinky finger and locked it with hers.
“Absolutely," I assured her.
"Life doesn't get any better than this!"
I pulled her matted, blonde head into my chest and kissed it. Over and over again.
"Absolutely."