"A SMILE IS A CURVE THAT SETS EVERYTHING STRAIGHT."
~PHYLLIS DILLER
Parenting is a juxtaposition of exhaustion and entertainment. It's a yearning to cherish these moments here and now as we clutch coffee in tired fingers; and it's a hope that these same moments filled with poop and tears will get easier. It's a weary mom with a tangled mess of hair that tiny fingers cannot help but pull. It's the dip of a father's overtired shoulders as he throws his son into the air one more time. It's the sound of endless whines and peals of obnoxious laughter. It's going days without showering only to have your little ones join you. It's listening to loud music as you laugh at the bouncing baby bottoms precariously balanced in front of you.
And these commonalities thread our stories together. So if you're as exhausted as my husband and I are, can we share a couple laughs together? Because maybe you also have a toddler with a boisterous soul and a baby with a demanding appetite; but even if you don't, whatever stage you're in right now, I know you have stories.
I know you have stories where you didn't catch everything. Stories of forgetting to wash your husband's uniform or brush your children's teeth intermixed with other times where you held it and them all together at once. I also know we share stories that make us laugh so hard our bladders reminisce over pregnant days when it was okay to pee whenever they wanted.
The beauty of these stories is that they are the foundation and fluff of motherhood. I firmly believe that the woman Proverbs 31 talks about as clad in strength and dignity who "laughs at the time to come" (Verse 25), is clothed in strength and dignity because she chooses to laugh. She chooses it despite the insanity in order to keep her sanity. She chooses a smile in the middle of exhaustion and hard work.
So amid the chaos of your day, I hope my children's antics can bring a curve to your lips as they do mine.
One of the changes my husband and I were excited about with our move earlier this year was the opportunity to paint our new living room with a color scheme beyond the drab walls of our first home. And in record time, my hubby initiated tackling that painting project.
I woke up one morning, and he had already coated an entire wall. It was glorious. Then one fateful afternoon a couple of days later, I decided to help clean up the paint products. . . And I thought I had toddler-proofed with the best of the mommies.
From scrubbing out the roller and sealing paint cans, I made sure every item was either put away or out of reach. Or, at least, almost every one. Turns out, I missed the most blatant hazard. Of course, my son would be intrigued by the paint tray; of course, it beckoned him to dip his toes in like the ocean of Moana (2016).
Slicked with wet grey paint, that tray sat on the floor unwatched like the golden prize of Olympian mischief. My son took the bait, plunging himself in a fresh coating of expressive modern art. By the time my husband and I caught him, the damage was done and dried to his clothing. It flecked off of his face like a visual representation of our brittle peace. (And every parent shares The Hunger Games' salute [2012].)
Our initial reaction was a mix of panic and thanks to God for the miracle that nothing besides our son's shirt was permanently damaged. A wave of relief washed over us as our son's eyes squinted up in a regret I also felt.
Discipline was hushed in laughter. Echoes of don't touch, bibes (wipes), bath, and help filled video recordings and the weary places of my heart. (My failure to put away the paint tray had led to his best texture learning yet. . . No need for Kinetic sand and Orbeez beads for sensory play; just leave the room and they'll find something. . .)
While the memory of that vigorous bath will fade, the unexpected bubbling of laughter at his newfound grey skin- that's the stuff we need to lean into. Missteps that mold into bonds. Laughter that forges into strength to keep us going despite our screw-ups.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I were snuggled on the couch while my kids sat between mountains of strewn books. As with every kid, they looked fleetingly through the picture pages and spent more time tossing another book off the shelf. But it was glorious to have uninterrupted snuggles with my husband. Cue the sound of a jagged rip that simultaneously ruined a book cover and our cuddling.
Being the bibliophiles that we are, my husband jumped up in full daddy correction mode. Our son sat closest to the damaged book; it's cover sporting an ugly scar. As my hubby scolded, emphasizing the respectful way to handle books, I noticed our daughter waddling around with a tightly clenched fist.
Getting off the couch, I asked, "Is she holding something?"
Her dimpled fist uncurled to reveal ripped black paper absent from the book cover next to our son. My hubby paused, concern knitting his brows with the question all parents face, "Am I scolding the wrong one?"
He immediately asked, "Did Sissy do it?" And as my son repeated "Sissy," she ran over and clamped her tiny fingers around his face. Her eyes bored mere inches from his.
I burst out laughing. My husband apologized while maintaining our stance on book treatment, and everyone hugged while I kept laughing. I continue to laugh every time I remember my husband cracking a joke that our almost one year old already has a NO SNITCHING policy.
Maybe she is an agent of The Boss Baby (2017).
My momma always said it's healthy to learn how to laugh at yourself; and I think it is doubly important to learn how to roll with the punches of parenthood. Just as I tell my son to "shake it off" after a wipe out at the park, I need to learn how to shrug with a smile, and sigh in a laugh at my own shortcomings. (And my reactions are a work in progress.) We all need to turn on some music and turn down the doubt.
If we respond in laughter at the unpredictable and ludicrous situations our children bring, maybe they'll learn to be happy adults even when life isn't going "right" or "according to plan."
So on the days when our patience falls utterly short, when our vision is blurred with emotion, and our tongues lash out in anger, I pray now that we look for reasons to laugh; to bask in the joy of unplanned cluster feeds, tiny mismatched socks, endless pleas for fruit snacks, disruptive dinosaur growls, and yogurt covered cheeks.
All in all, these ornery babes really do make my days wondrous. I bet yours do too.
I won't always remember the laundry or crumbed over floors, but I yearn to bottle up all these echoed giggles. Covered in grey paint or clutching scraps of book covers, I'll treasure our stories forever.
Oh, how they make me laugh.
Love,
A Fellow Momma
I really would love to swap stories; so please leave some of yours in the comments! Let's share the love and laughs today, and keep what remains of our sanity.