What I Love Most in My Kids is What Often Drives Me Crazy

written in the summer of 2012

You know what I love the most about my children is exactly what often requires the most patience from me as a mom.

Let me explain.

Last night, our large glass patio table shattered. The kids were playing cards, tried to remove the umbrella, and it shattered. Everywhere. Thankfully, no one was hurt. As I was driving home from the grocery store, grumbling about losing that table a bit, my mother quickly reminded me to be grateful that not one of the kids got more than a minor scratch. I tried to remember as I walked out back and saw the deck, and under the deck, and the grass littered with tempered tiny bits of glass.

Two hours later, after painstakingly picking up glass and getting covered in dirt and mosquito bites I still tried to remember. Be grateful, Rachel, be grateful. That’s what I kept telling myself. As I drove to Target (which normally would be awesome) to buy a new broom (since our old one was covered in glass dust) I tried to shake off my mood and adopt gratitude.

It was hard. You know, I had just slipped into that grumbly grumpy place.

Then this phone call.

Elijah was running and dove for a ball in his room and hit his head on the corner of the bed hard.

I didn’t care about that stupid without glass table anymore.

I came home, saw my Elijah with the very large goose egg on his head, and my priorities snapped back. After a call to the doctor on call who told me what to watch for and that he should be fine I tried to rest. I didn’t think of that table, or that glass, or all that stuff anymore. I just sat there, holding Elijah’s hand as he drifted to sleep and thought of how much I loved that boy.

I love him.

And what I love most about him is exactly the thing that takes so much out of me as a parent – it’s this irrepressible energy and drive and spunk (which makes one dive for a ball in a bedroom) and all of that is what makes him, well, him. I didn’t want anything to happen to it. Even though he requires so much energy, and patience, and wisdom he gives me exponentially more in return. Hugs in the morning, cuddles, I love you’s, laughs, and ultimately joy.

Why is it that it is so easy to forget the good until the good seems threatened to leave?

I just want to live not caring about a table that broke and live being more grateful for all the good that I have. The table? Replaceable. Those kids? Not. Elijah? Not.

Today, this Saturday morning, I am grateful.

Grateful for the good, the little things, the people in my life who make life full of joy.

I know it’s cliche, but count your blessings.

That’s what I’m doing today.

~Rachel