The Lottery

At a business dinner this week, the conversation, as it often does among agrarian based business people, turned to feeding the world.  After the usual banter about the challenges of ethanol vs feeding corn to people etc, someone looked at our congealing leftovers of grilled asparagus, steaks and scallops and pointed out how just being born in America was like winning the lottery.  That our children had really won the lottery.  It is a comment we have heard before, and one that we always find uncomfortable. Brian and I always share a knowing glance; it is not them, but us that won the lottery.  In a world where plenty of infertile couples struggle with an unfilled kitchen table, and failed adoptions break hearts every day, we have four precious faces around our table, in the rear view mirror, and climbing into our bed during storms.  We are the lucky ones.
But like most lottery recipients, we sometimes wonder if we haven't squandered our win.  Like the instant millionaires who scoff at investment advice only to seek out a broker when they are down to a few thousand.  "Can't you help me make this more??"  The years that seemed to stretch endlessly before us, suddenly seem terribly short.  Can we really be at middle school?  Wasn't I just sobbing in Immanuel Baptist Church's parking lot as I dropped my oldest off for her first day of preschool?  Can I really just be months away from having everyone in school all day?  What happened to days of Mama directed play, princesses and pink cowboy boots?  When did spending time with dear old Mom and Dad become boring at best and more likely... embarrassing.  The days race by filled with cheerleading, ball games, sleepovers and homework.  I complain about clothes in the hall and cars filled with fast food containers and leaking cups.  We argue over technology and chores.  And, we wonder.  I worry.  Is it all just too fast, too much.  In the rush of the daily, have we buried our real talent? 
I want to make sure we use our winnings wisely.  That we invest in them and not just in the moment.  I hope when our kids look back, they remember meals around the table, and great family trips.  I hope Hadley remembers the hour playing ball on the beach and the late night conversation more than the cheer event.  That Brianna will know she matters because her parents weren't too busy to remind her that "she is fearfully and wonderfully made" that she is "who the great I AM " says she is.  That we taught them all by example-word and deed- that all people matter and are worth the sacrifice.  That we are here for but a moment and only investments in God's bank really yield returns.
We don't play the lottery, it is a poor investment.  Our children are a gift and not a win.  And what they become a blessing and not a trophy.  God is the only perfect parent and even then His children are far from perfect.  Dear God, let me hold my trust with open hands and truly be thankful.  And let us all remember how blessed we are and give back to those who aren't.

How can I stay upset when....

Thing 1 comes home having had an antibiotic induced incident at school.  Thing 2 is in different clothes because she literally bit a hole in the first shirt.  Thing 1 runs inside from backyard with liquid poop puddling in his shoes.  While cleaning Thing 1 up, Thing 2 plays in poop to guarantee equal attention for all.  1 bath and third set of clothes for the day later, Mama attempts to clean up kitchen.  Thing 2, upset at being expected to self entertain for even a moment, takes revenge and plays in poop one more time.  Put her in tub.  Thing 1 now has another explosive moment.  While dealing with him, Thing 2 explodes in the bathtub water.  At what point is it acceptable to start crying.  Get Thing 1 and Thing 2 cleaned up yet again.  Thing 1 smiles at me and says "I'm really happy you are my Mama."  Thing 2 nods vehemently "YES, YES"  I guess there are worse things than poop.  But prayers for cleaner days still accepted... please.

There is more story to this but....

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but I am not taking pictures of these events.  I am completley immersed in One Thousand Gifts so I am trying to be thankful.  This week I am thankful for...

• Our lovely preacher's wife for bringing food while Brianna and I were at Vanderbilt
• Friends, inlaws, and help that did whatever needed to be done while we were at Vandy
• A doctor that lets Brianna break food rules so she'll eat
• A child old enough to finally understand eating= go home
• Wonderful friends that take over the care of my kids when one in a million accidents happen
• Cheer dad that drove me to urgent care despite concerns I might vomit in his car and the looks I am sure he got from the staff.
• Cell phones (I am sure this thanks will be short lived)
• Big sunglasses
• Clorox wipes
• Aunt Lana's homemade soap that removes really awful smells better than anything else I know
• Multiple PBS channels thanks to our new local cable
• A really great husband

These, like the tales of my Dad biting his tongue half off, the ski trip with a migraine, and Brian's assorted injuries, will be the stories we will tell forever.