Rainy Day Lessons

"Maaaaaaaa!" Collete screams up the stairs.
"Yes Ma'am?" I call down, knowing very well what she's expecting of me. She wants to go outside. Once again. In the rain. This time it's straight up POURING outside and I've no intention of getting my rain boots back on and trudging through the mud.

Then I remembered the last time we played in the rain and how much I loved that feeling of freedom falling on our faces. The lasting bond that was created as my daughter saw me dance in the mystical water from the sky. It was mesmerizing to see her experience that for the first time. Why would today be any different? Why does it only have to seem special the first time? I decided that we would go.

I pulled on my faded houndstooth boots, put her in some play-clothes and out we went! She ran immediately to the first puddle she could find. It was seriously 6 inches in diameter, but she couldn't help herself. The whole time I'm thinking squishy socks! ew. gross but she didn't mind one bit.  The next puddle was much bigger so Mommy joined in on the fun. I giggled like I was 4 years old again. Cola kept laughing my name "mhaa mhaa" and pointing at me to indicate how silly I was. I learned that she's not afraid of a little silliness because I showed her that. I showed her how to enjoy the rain, so attempting to stifle that would be to undo something magical that we shared. Ended up following her around for 45 minutes with an umbrella covering us (mostly me) and reflected on how very special these moments can be. So much of the time, I tried to keep her covered, but she'd run off too fast or go into a tree that was too low hanging for me to follow. It's funny how much we think we're meant to shadow our children when God clearly has them on a path meant only for them.

A few days later, it was still raining but we caught a little break. Stir crazy and itching for adventure, we drove to the park. I brought three towels with me in order to wipe off the soaked slides. Apparently two towels wasn't enough and my best efforts to keep her "dry" were once again unavailing. The biggest slide on the playscape was a real doozy. It had more bumps and curves than any other in the park. The first time I went down it, my mother was in town and she just happened to catch a video of it. I liken that experience to the first time I ever rode the Judge Roy Scream at Six Flags. Thrilling, but back breaking. Leaving my body ajar but my dignity intact. If you can manage it, you look like a real rock star.

So of course this is the slide my sweet angel wants to attempt. She gets to the top as I finish wiping it down. She says to me "wa wa, whoa wa wa Ma ma!" I responded with one of those Sure-Whatever-You-Say-Baby-You-Can-Do-It cheers, having NO clue what she's telling me. She sits down. braces herself. Pushes her body forward using the sides of the slide and WHOA WA WA WHOA MA MA, I suddenly understood. She gets to the bottom and flies, I mean FLIES face first into the ever so soft (Thank You, Jesus) mulch. Her bottom is soaking wet. Apparently, Mommy had not wiped down the very top of the slide. My baby gets up-like a total boss-and brushes herself off, saying "gin, Ma ma, gin" running back up the stairs to brave the slide once more.

How many times can I say that I've had that kind of courage? It's not courageous when you don't see it coming. Its courageous when you see the obstacle and face it. You see the thrill that could follow even though it scares you at the time. You see the danger but you have the faith to know you'll be safe. She amazes me how fearless she is. What amazes me more is that she doesn't realize it. She has no idea the amount of awesome the Lord has placed in her tiny little body. She doesn't grasp the notion that her sweetness is the stuff of compassion, placed specifically in her heart by the Holy Spirit Himself.

All of this and more.

And as her "Ma", I have the utmost privilege to watch her dance in the rain, seek out the smallest puddles, and fly down the wet slides of life. Completely unaware of the feeble attempts to stop her or slow her down. I pray this is always the case. I pray that as she grows, she is more aware of the God of rain, than the rain itself.

Blowing Up Instagram

Really? I'm the mom that blogs now?

I guess so. It's happening. I'm the mom with no adult interaction all day, so this is my outlet.
I'm the mom who knows I'm not alone, and I'd like to journey with others.
I'm the mom that loves Jesus and journaling. I owe that to my own mother. It's cool to look back and see how far He's brought you.
I'm also the mom that blows up instagram- and I don't apologize for it. I'll probably be doing it well into the season of my life in which I'm a InstaGramma. Though by then, the images will probably teleport from my brain waves. Who knows? #technology

It's not that I think my kid is the most amazing kid to ever cross the street. She's not Jesus. She doesn't sneak out of the house to go and sit at the feet of our pastor, eager to hear all the wondrous things about God. We aren't there.... yet. She does say "a-nen" at the end of our bedtime prayers and I think it's the cutest thing since Lucas the Spider. 

It's not that I take a hundred pictures of her a day and then crop out the ones I don't like. I keep them all... and it's a real problem. It's just .... I love her so friggin' much and I'm bursting with excitement over being her Mommy!!!!! Don't get me wrong- my kid does bad things, too. Just now, she screamed at me because I wouldn't let her play "Hide My Feet in Mommy's Bra" while I changed her diaper. Ok, kid. I get that you're innovative and have such a brilliant and original mind, but these toenail scrapes across my chest are a bit alarming. She does more good than bad, though. I'll be sure to share both exciting and embarrassing moments so you don't think I'm the Virgin Mary.

I guess the real reason I'm blogging has to do with the fact that I've not been documenting the things I love most about her. I don't want to be old and decrepit one day, forgetting how her feet used to curl and wave in the air while she watched The Mother Goose Club on Netflix. I don't want to forget that her favorite game was Closet Monster or The Tickling Lobster Clamp. I want to remember it all, while saving a little time to talk about my own growth as well. I want to remember how Jesus had a hand in it all. And I'm a sharer. I like sharing my life with others:)

I hope that someone who's on the same path or in the same season can relate and delight in my stories along the way.