It could happen to me

When I first started college, I thought I wanted to be a journalist or something of the like, maybe marketing. I tell people often that the reason I decided against that path was the day we covered how to really get people with pictures... what pictures could captivate and invoke a certain emotion at the same time. There's a term for it, but I really didn't retain much from those classes. Anyway, I'm not a fan of this practice at all, and maybe it's because I'm totally the target audience of this type of journalism. I can't just look at a picture of someone in despair without feeling total despair. I'm really struggling with this- I can't find the words for what I'm trying to describe, but I can tell you that I just saw one of those pictures.

Today was a terrible day for Oklahoma. A lot of tragedy, a huge loss of life. While scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, I came across a picture of a man carrying a young girl, probably from the elementary school that had been destroyed. I realized immediately that Lindsey, my sweet 20 month old daughter, has the same shoes as this girl.

A pair of shoes got me thinking... what if that were my husband carrying my baby out of the rubble that was once the elementary school I had dropped her off at this morning? And the children... what were they thinking and feeling? The teachers? I just can't fathom the horror.

There are some nights that I just can't understand why Lindsey won't sleep alone. A full size bed is no place for two adults and a toddler to sleep. I'll never understand how a baby can take up so much room. Or when I give her some food and she spits it out everywhere. Or when I walk into the kitchen and all of my rugs have been turned upside down and moved to the middle of the room and my towels and rags are all over the place. Or when it's time to go sleep and instead of just going peacefully, it's really a struggle (she will regret that one day!). Or when I have to say "no!" until I'm blue in the face. Or when I just want to make dinner in peace and she's standing in the living room screaming until she is blue in the face because she has chosen that moment to want all of my attention because the time I spent sitting on the couch trying to play with her five minutes prior was obviously not the right time. I think about moments like those and I think I'm going to lose my mind.

But on nights like this one, I think of the parents out there who would give anything for just one more kick to the spine just when they fell asleep. One more food fight, one more chance to clean up a mess, one more night to curl up and read with their babies. One more chance to do anything. I can not imagine the aching hearts of the parents waiting to find out if their child is okay and they ones who are coming to terms with the empty bedrooms they will face tonight, if they were fortunate enough to still have a home.

I think it's important for those of us who are parents to love on our kids like there is no tomorrow because it is a fact that tomorrow is not promised. It's important that we understand that doesn't mean we should let our kids do as they please- I'll still enforce my rules and practice tough love when the time comes- but let's make sure that our reactions aren't too quick, too harsh. I don't want to ever look back on any memory with shame or guilt because of the way I acted. I don't want to wish I could re-do any moment. I don't want to regret tomorrow the words I say today. We always believe that terrible things (and even the good things) happen to somebody else... but you are and I am somebody else's somebody else.

On a positive note, waking up to Lindsey in the morning saying "Hi Mommy, hiiii. Hi Mommy. Mommy, hi. Hiiiiiii. Eye! Nose! *smack* Mommy! Hiiii!" always makes me smile. I wish I could wake up with her enthusiasm. And I'm so proud of her wanting to show me how much she knows, even when I risk losing an eye each time she wants to show me where mine is. And when she picks up all of my rugs and stands in the middle of my kitchen with the entire contents of my towel drawer scattered, she is usually wearing my oven mitt saying "hiiiii Mommy hiiii!" How can I be mad at that?

I wish I could put into words the happiness she puts into my heart. I pray God lets me keep her forever.

A blog about not blogging

So here’s the thing… blogging is stressful. I always have so much to say, but probably not the things worth writing about. I’m always talking, but about things that make people nod their head in agreement while mentally preparing their grocery list or trying to remember whether or not they turned the coffee pot off this morning before they left the house. I can tell when people aren’t paying attention to me (you’re not fooling anybody!) but I just can’t stop talking. So that’s why I find blogging so stressful. I have to talk about something meaningful... unless you want to hear me ranting about never being about to keep the towels clean. I mean, really... washing towels is a never-ending process. I’m one towel away from resorting to my beach towels because I am really over washing towels.

My mother swears that I have more to blog about. She thinks I’m a creative genius and that I should be blogging everyday about my regular ordinary life and every meal I cook. I am not someone who can just whip something up. I am also not someone who follows a recipe well. I will only be blogging about meals when I’ve stumbled onto something amazing.

If I were to be blogging about my everyday life, I’d be blogging about how I hit snooze 8 times, was late to work, was exhausted when I got off work, washed towels when I got home (towels!), played with my daughter for a few minutes before I decided that I wasn’t going to be the creative genius my mom think I am and that I’d promised my husband I would be with dinner and opt for chicken fries with your choice of dipping sauce, argued about who gets to give Lindsey her bath and went to bed with the promise of repeating it all again the next day.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my life this way. We’re boring and I happen to be perfectly content with boring.

I want to blog every day... I just don’t have enough material in my life to blog about. I’m still hoping to win the lottery so I can become a stay-at-home mom with a clean and organized house and dinner on the table by 5:30 every night. When that happens, I will have more interesting things to tell you about. But first, I need to start playing the lottery.