If you were a fly on the wall at my house, you'd be sure to hear your share of fussing, complaining and whining. Maybe even a slammed door or two.

But enough about me.

In the pressure cooker that's parenting, I have exploded more than once. And it's harder to clean up than spaghetti night with a toddler.

So after years spent indulging in fruitless self-flogging, I finally let go of my obsession with getting it all 'just right.' I confess...I'm not a perfect parent.

Whew. That felt good.

Now, when my son saunters in with his 42nd tardy of the school year, I let it go. When I hear myself hollering "Whatever!" at my teenage daughter, I move on.

Having it all together is overrated anyway.

And I've determined not to waste God's grace. I'll never get it just right. You won't, either. So read on, sister. If you see a little of yourself in me, I hope it helps to know that you're not alone. Nope. If you're a mom, face it. You're never, ever alone.

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Monday, May 4, 2009

I've got it covered, Dr. Dobson...

Little Miss Know-It-All. Yep. That was me. I had this parenting thing covered. Until my oldest hit about three, I was sickeningly self-righteous. How bad was it?

Imagine this: I’m at a friend’s baby shower. My firstborn, Molly, is just a few months old. The mom-to-be opens all the normal goodies … adorable outfits, burpie cloths, diapers.

She then opens a book by James Dobson… parenting guru… Focus on the Family … Ph.D. You know, the James Dobson.

Want to know my first thought? “I don’t need that.” No, I’m not kidding. I was a mother for a whopping three months and declared myself wiser than Dr. Dobson. Good grief. How could I stand myself?

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

It didn’t take long for me to figure out I wasn’t such an “ace” at this parenting thing. I spent years, though, still trying to act like I had it all figured out.

Somewhat of a challenge when you’re chasing your three-year-old who’s running with abandon up and down the aisles of Books-A-Million screeching like a banshee.

Or when your little boy walks out of the church bathroom into the sanctuary with his underwear around his ankles.

Talk about exposure.

Nope, 12 years later, I’m not thinkin’ “I don’t need that” so much anymore. In fact, Dr. Dobson, if you’re listening … I’d gladly build a wing for you onto my home.

I don’t have all the answers. But I know the One who does.

And He does live in my house and is on call 24/7. Heaven knows I need Him.
Melinda

4 comments:

  1. Great blog, Melinda. So organized and tighty! Since God is on call, does that mean He answers the phone like Ben, "Hey, this is Jesus, how can I help you?" and end His calls with, "Alrighty, you take care." Let's do a mock phone call at 2 AM to Jesus.

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  2. wonderful blog, Melinda. Very creative and fun to read. look forward to following this!

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  3. I ditto what you wrote, because every time I say never, I eat my words later. I'm a slow learner, but eventually I catch on. The problem is, catching yourself when you're in the midst of doing it.

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  4. I'm so thankful God is on call at all hours. Amen twice to that! Great post.

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