Oh how I admire people who are easygoing and flexible. On this front, that means I don’t admire myself. Like at all. I tend to get a little grumpy when things go less than the way I planned. Take this week for instance.
Our trip to the doctor for the girls’ one-and three-year appointments consisted of two potty stops on our normally half-hour drive. After a check in (by me) and something like a circus training (by kids) that took fifteen minutes due to upgrading to digital records and an insurance switch, the girls saw the doctor. Somehow, we walked out with more tears from the child who didn’t have three shots and two blood draws than from the one who did.
Since I couldn’t get all my grocery shopping done before their appointment (due to multiple potty stops), I had to stop again on my way home. (I don’t recommend going to the grocery twice in one day with two cranky kids, just in case you would ever consider this.)
While I was unbuckling Smiley, FireCracker pulled down her pants in the car and announced that she had to potty “right this very now.”
(This is why I always carry a kid potty in the car.)
Not having quick access to wipes, I wiped her down with a the window shammy I keep under my seat.
This is my life. This is my day that consists of feeding little people and wondering how in the heck the doctor’s office expects me to fill out six forms while corralling two kids onto the scale and away from the doctor’s tools and grocery shopping twice and kissing boo boo’s and feeding them all over again. Not bad … just different than I had planned.
With the emotion of a Midwest Spring (ever changing), I wondered how in the heck people do simple and necessary things like go to the store with kids … at least with my kids.
Even still, on the other hand, I’m grateful my kids are healthy enough to have the energy to beg for popsicles, and that I have all day to take them to town. Even if it does take all day.
I got to ride in the planter with Matt on Sunday night. For the few minutes it took to plant the small patch that surrounds our home, looking up at the nightlight in the girls’ window, I drifted back to my high school self.
Determined to win the state FFA essay contest, I read all the farm papers my dad subscribed to cover to cover. I came across a regular columnist who, on that particular day, was talking about doing chores with her kids. She said she had the best job in the world – mom, farm wife and writer – and I agreed.
Although life has looked a little different than I planned (I didn’t ever dream of broken pipes and shattered expectations and too-busy schedules and having to put the groceries back on the shelf because we under budgeted), in so many ways it’s more than I planned.
(Kind of like when your husband asks you to make that casserole again that you first thought might be kind of iffy.)
I think back to that farm column from nine years ago. I now am a mom. I am a farm wife, even if we just have our few acres and handful of livestock. I am a writer. I even have an article coming out that includes the sentence “Normal testicles and a high scrotal circumference is directly related to the buck’s fertility,” to prove it. (I had to spell check a couple of those words.) Ah, living the dream, writing about goat anatomy!
But really I am.
I get to work in the comfort of my own home on my own time. My kids get to experience the wonder of growing and raising their own food. I never have to miss their first words or first steps or the joy of them discovering something new. We have room to roam. We don’t have everything we want, but we have plenty more than we need. My days and my life usually doesn’t go like I’ve planned, but I’ve come to realize that’s a good thing. I’ve also come to realize there’s a better plan.
Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish immeasurably more than we might ask or imagine. Ephesians 3:20
God promises to give us more – to an extent that we can’t even measure – than we imagine. Even in the trials I wouldn’t have ever picked: in wearing slippers in my house for a solid year because we just had sub-floors and in job change and losing a bunch of money when we didn’t have any to start with and in feeling isolated when I first had my babies, he gave me exactly what I needed and he grew me to where I didn’t ever think I’d be. And the good far, far outweighs the ‘bad.’
Now we’re off to feed the pigs and chicks and bake monster cookies at FireCracker’s request … and probably ignore most of my To Do list. If the phone calls don’t all get made and the floor is still littered with breakfast, I know I’ll feel unsettled. But today, I also know there’s more.