Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Sometimes Childhood Is...

In the world of social media it is so easy to make it look like we have it all together.  Perfectly staged photos of clean smiling children, eating their incredibly healthy-looks-like-an-octopus-sandwich-sculpture, peacefully together, at the table you handcrafted yourself out of reclaimed barn wood, while listening to instrumental hymns playing softly in the background is the ideal idea I had in my head of what raising 3 children would be.  Um, eeerrrrkkk, can we just put on the brakes on that one and realize it will never happen!  It just isn't reality.  And no matter what I think life with littles should look like in my head, it just doesn't look like that in real life.  Not only am I too exhausted to create anything, including handmade tables and octopus sculpture lunches, I am sometimes too exhausted to be in the same dirty messy room as my kids.  Sometimes I just want to close my eyes and wish it clean and POOF, that is what would happen.

However today as I sit watching my boys play in a massive lawn mower box giggling their heads off as they play together (which in turn makes their sister laugh), I can't help but realize just how blessed I am, and that these are just some of the things that sometimes childhood is.

Sometimes childhood is messy rooms, like incredibly messy rooms, because when you're a kid, you don't get anxiety over how many things are on the floor (or what your 9 month old sister may eat).

Real life, of our real game room, on any given day.

Sometimes childhood is laughing uncontrollably as you and your kid brother are playing with a huge ball in a small box together.  The logic doesn't make sense, but that doesn't matter.

Sometimes childhood is your mom just sitting in the room being present, not even participating, but just being there enjoying you.

Sometimes childhood is watching the same episode of Barney over and over and over again.  You have no concept of the term "overuse" and "my-ears-are-going-to-fall-off-my-head-if-I-have-to-listen-to-this-one-more-time.

Sometimes childhood is comprised of iphone photos, or unedited and poorly taken "real camera pictures, because that is how memories are captured.

Sometimes childhood is running up and down the only hallway in the house and jumping on any and all furniture, because you have just that much energy.

Sometimes childhood is rolling around on the ground for no reason, because you know, why not?

Sometimes childhood is messy hair, unbrushed teeth (gasp), potty training woes, pop-tarts in the car, peanut butter and jelly hands, snotty noses, and so much more that comprise of your days.

However childhood is where the memories are and I hope oh so much that you Reid, and you Owen, and you Halle Kate make wonderful memories while you are under this roof.  Life is crazy, and man kids, this parenting thing is hard, like ridiculously hard, and so many times I feel like I am failing you miserably.  I DON'T have it all together, some days it is just a miracle we are up and dressed.  But the mantra that I hear in my head oh so often is "the days are long, but the years are short".  Sometimes I wish away these days in the "trenches" but I know I will miss it (well ok, maybe not all of it, you being able to make your own drinks and breakfast sounds pretty stinkin' amazing and I am sure always will be).

Please know more than anything you guys I pray for you.  I pray over you, I pray for you.  I pray above all else, above anything I could teach you academically or athletically (ok maybe your daddy for that one really), above all I hope for these years I have you here with me you learn to love God and you learn how to have a life lived for Him.  I hope you see it displayed, I hope you see it taught, I hope you see it expected.  I pray I lead well by example, that I don't expect anything out of you that I am not currently doing myself.  Y'all are some of my biggest blessings and I am thankful to be your mommy, even if on some days I need to be fired.  You are loved, deeply, completely, and by a human and broken mama.  Give me grace as I figure out how my vision of what I think your childhood should be differs from what is reality.  Sometimes childhood is an ebb and flow of grace upon grace between me and the 3 of you, you know what, that is ok.  It's ok. . .

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