The past week has been a bit traumatic around our house. Last Thursday morning, a car pulled out right in front of me and totalled our car. The airbags deployed, the car filling with airbag smoke, and here I was sitting in the driver's seat trying to process what just happened in the past 4 seconds as my 2-year-old flipped out in the back seat. Ohsothankfully, Rhet and I were both ok--just a few bumps and bruises and some short-term hysterics.
In the middle of trying to figure out all of the icky little details that go down post-collision, Nick and I got to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary. Not so fortunately, I received a violent-but-quick stomach flu that had my husband exercising the extent of his true love for me that day with his care-taking.
(I started this post last week, so add one week to my previous timelines!)
We are finally getting back to normal--the bathroom has been cleaned, we're figuring out what we can purchase with the worth of a '98 Camry, and Rhet has stopped talking about the "boom" incident.
One thing Rhet has been talking about, however, has been both irritating the living daylights out of me and convicting my heart...
Rhet has a book called "More, More, More," which she has adored since her very first days with us in Ethiopia. There are scenarios given with three different children--Little Guy's dad kisses his belly and he says "more, more more!', Little Pumpkin's grandmother kisses her toes and she says "more, more, more!", and finally, Little Bird's mama puts Little Bird to bed, kissing her eyelids as she says "mmm, mmm, mmm." Sorry for the spoiler. But it's sweet, right?
Rhet loves to say the last line of each scenario, pronouncing it, "mohwr, mohwr, mohwr!"
"More" was the first sign she was able to communicate with us in Ethiopia. It was also the first sign she transferred into language when she able. And lately, it is one of my hot buttons.
It doesn't matter what it is...whenever Rhet experiences something pleasant...a sweet moment, a delicious taste of something, a thrilling ride down a slide, a fun morning at the zoo, a butterfly sighting...before it is even over, she has this habit of saying, "mohwr, mohwr, mohwr, mohwr, mohwr..." It's not a sweet request--it's more like a frantic whiny chant. Instead of enjoying what just happened, she freaks out that it will never happen again.
How do you tell a two year-old to just take a deep breath and enjoy what is happening without worrying whether it will happen again? Her feelings of entitlement to a repeat experience keep her from enjoying the first one!
Conviction time comes, however, when I realize that contentment is difficult for everyone...for me. How often do I truly enjoy a moment without lamenting that it is almost over or that I'd love to experience it again? How often do I enjoy what I HAVE without the thoughts about what I could do to make it better? Particularly in motherhood, it seems that we wish away the mundane, irritating, repetitive moments with young children only to be wistfully standing on the other side wondering where the time went. (We are discontent with the new stages because we miss the old stages that we spent rushing through to the new stages. Sounds crazy but familiar, yes?)
I have no idea how to teach my child to enjoy a blessing for what it is except to model it myself. Which is not always an easy feat! What I do know from experience this month is that a normal drive to the children's museum may turn out quite differently...grand plans for a romantic evening may end up displaying love in the opposite way.
So this week as you step outside into lovely springtime and thick layers of pollen work their way into every pore in your being and launch a full-body attack, try to appreciate the blooming tulips and the mild breezes...literally and figuratively.
In the middle of trying to figure out all of the icky little details that go down post-collision, Nick and I got to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary. Not so fortunately, I received a violent-but-quick stomach flu that had my husband exercising the extent of his true love for me that day with his care-taking.
(I started this post last week, so add one week to my previous timelines!)
We are finally getting back to normal--the bathroom has been cleaned, we're figuring out what we can purchase with the worth of a '98 Camry, and Rhet has stopped talking about the "boom" incident.
One thing Rhet has been talking about, however, has been both irritating the living daylights out of me and convicting my heart...
Rhet has a book called "More, More, More," which she has adored since her very first days with us in Ethiopia. There are scenarios given with three different children--Little Guy's dad kisses his belly and he says "more, more more!', Little Pumpkin's grandmother kisses her toes and she says "more, more, more!", and finally, Little Bird's mama puts Little Bird to bed, kissing her eyelids as she says "mmm, mmm, mmm." Sorry for the spoiler. But it's sweet, right?
Rhet loves to say the last line of each scenario, pronouncing it, "mohwr, mohwr, mohwr!"
"More" was the first sign she was able to communicate with us in Ethiopia. It was also the first sign she transferred into language when she able. And lately, it is one of my hot buttons.
It doesn't matter what it is...whenever Rhet experiences something pleasant...a sweet moment, a delicious taste of something, a thrilling ride down a slide, a fun morning at the zoo, a butterfly sighting...before it is even over, she has this habit of saying, "mohwr, mohwr, mohwr, mohwr, mohwr..." It's not a sweet request--it's more like a frantic whiny chant. Instead of enjoying what just happened, she freaks out that it will never happen again.
How do you tell a two year-old to just take a deep breath and enjoy what is happening without worrying whether it will happen again? Her feelings of entitlement to a repeat experience keep her from enjoying the first one!
Conviction time comes, however, when I realize that contentment is difficult for everyone...for me. How often do I truly enjoy a moment without lamenting that it is almost over or that I'd love to experience it again? How often do I enjoy what I HAVE without the thoughts about what I could do to make it better? Particularly in motherhood, it seems that we wish away the mundane, irritating, repetitive moments with young children only to be wistfully standing on the other side wondering where the time went. (We are discontent with the new stages because we miss the old stages that we spent rushing through to the new stages. Sounds crazy but familiar, yes?)
I have no idea how to teach my child to enjoy a blessing for what it is except to model it myself. Which is not always an easy feat! What I do know from experience this month is that a normal drive to the children's museum may turn out quite differently...grand plans for a romantic evening may end up displaying love in the opposite way.
So this week as you step outside into lovely springtime and thick layers of pollen work their way into every pore in your being and launch a full-body attack, try to appreciate the blooming tulips and the mild breezes...literally and figuratively.
1 comments:
This is so true! And often so hard to notice even when we are in the midst of wishing for more before the wonderful moment we are experiencing is even over!
Being pregnant and working a job I'm ready to quit makes it harder too. I have my end date in sight, but I want it here NOW, and I want more time outside in the sunshine, more time thinking about this baby girl and sharing the news and excitement with my family and just leaving my head up in the clouds until she gets here. So this post today was perfect for me. ;)
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