"If the God you believe in as an idea doesn’t start showing up in what happens to you in your own life, you have as much cause for concern as if the God you don’t believe in as an idea does start showing up. It is absolutely crucial, therefore, to keep in constant touch with what is going on in your own life’s story and to pay close attention to what is going on in the stories of others’ lives. If God is present anywhere, it is in those stories that God is present. If God is not present in those stories, then they are scarcely worth telling." ~ Frederick Buechner

11 June 2013

Choosing to Laugh

First off,  here are the latest baby blankets to come off my hook.
Okay, so yesterday was one of those days that should only be found in one of those "hard to believe it all happened in one day" type of movies. I'm convinced these days happen once in a while to keep me humble. I'm just thankful that it really is once in a long while, because if these types of days happened with any greater frequency, I might run off to Bora Bora.

By myself.

For a month.
But not really, because how could I ever leave these precious faces behind?
Especially if they're covered in vanilla ice cream?
Not to mention that there is not a swimsuit in the world that's flattering enough for me to feel comfortable wearing it (in my current state) for a month.

Anyway, I won't subject you to a long litany of all that went down yesterday.

Here's the summary:
*I woke up (much too early) on the wrong side of the bed.
*I didn't have any time to myself before B woke up.
*He was incredibly cranky.
*He said things like, "Nose on B's fing-guh, Mama," and "B dancing on table, Mama."
*I let him paint. I kept finding evidence of his artistic endeavor in random places throughout the rest of the day.
*We went to Story Time at the library for the first time and it was not a pleasant experience for either of us.
*He woke up prematurely from his nap, and after listening to him whine (uncharacteristic) and see him yawn repeatedly, I had to convince him to go back to sleep.
*He woke up incredibly cranky again.
*Gave him a popsicle and let him watch a video at the table to calm down while I finished some chores.
*Soon thereafter heard "Lotsa poopies on chair, Mama."

Really, I just had to laugh. Because you know what?

He's the only child I have to love on, laugh with, teach.

He's just two.

And this, too, shall pass.

Soon enough, I won't have him constantly with me for over 12 hours a day.

And this:
For his sake and for my sanity, I choose to laugh these days off, clean up my little boy several times a day, scrub that chair, and be excited about getting to pick a fun new fabric for my chairs.


  1. And some day you'll be like me and refer to your writings about this day and somehow feel "wistful" about those hard days of toddlerhood, Hannah. I did that the other day when I read my journal from when my youngest was just two. He had a similar day and I had *maybe* a similar meltdown! :) So I say to you, "You go, girl!" Hang in there cuz I'm praying for you and just a bit envious as well. Thanks for sharing your sweet and sour day! (And yes, I know that it doesn't make sense now that I would envy that kind of day. Go figure!)

    1. No, I hear you. :~) I've had enough mamas who are further along on the parenting journey tell me that they miss the little years from time to time. I'm grateful to know that I will look back on these somewhat-crazy days and remember them fondly. Time heals many wounds, even those that involve poopies. ;~) Thanks for your prayers! I sure do appreciate them!