Thursday, August 18, 2011
What a great heading for my first post...for two years? Almost two years? I guess I was pregnant with our little red headed fireball the last time I put my fingers to the keys and typed. Let the words flow out. But poop is a happening thing in the Starner house. Especially the size and quanitity of a certain young man's poop. My fingers are not enough to count the number of explosive poops that have happened recently. All requiring a dunk in the tub which is no small thing since a certain young man does not take to the water by himself. How messy! and stinky! But I love him. I can think of no other reason that I haven't really lost my cookies. Some know that at point I couldn't even wipe a snotty nose or think about changing a peed in diaper without gagging. I will admit to still having this problem with other people's children but God in his divine mercy has bestowed upon me the ability to help my own children out with these needs.
So poop happens. And this mom is struck with guilt and sadness. Both conveniently aligned to rob me of joy. Of peace. Of my sound mind. Guilt because was I not paying attention? Was I being lazy, not being a diligent and observant mom? Mikah is for the most part content. Content to do his thing. Zoom around the house, or should I say scoot, playing with this toy or that. His contentment reaches far beyond my own and is at times too much. When the red head calls or Ellie needs, or dishes are piling up...errr...falling out of the sink...well you get it, right? Those who aren't screaming and are happy and content may get left to their own. I have made it a point to not let this happen since I became aware that time was zipping away and Mikah was being left in its wake. But still the guilt monster does its little dance on my shoulder whenever there is a mess. Were you present? Were you not?
And then there is the sadness. I am not sure which monster stings the most. Which will leave more marks. The sadness because maybe I was paying attention. Maybe I was completely in the moment and it just happened. And Mikah couldn't tell me. He couldn't say, "Hey mom, I need to poop." Which is worse? I really can't say. They both have the ability to steal my joy that I fight to grasp.
So I make my list...of gifts. I am on my way to 1000. 332 and counting. Some are hard, like number 332, poop messes. Some are easy, like number 1, the still of mornings and number 2, God's words and number 3, Jesus offering thanks...The counting cleanses the air of the stench. It wipes the dirt from my eyes. It frees my thoughts from guilt or sadness and the joy seeps in. It soaks up the day's clutter and peace enters my soul.
#310-332...of counting gifts...more of the One Thousand Gifts that never end...
310. Family zoo day
311. School planning
312. Visits with old friends
313. 4 year molars
314. Innocent as doves
315. Camping memories
316. Ellie rising early
317. Reading the Word aloud to my once little girl
318. Parables in Matthew
319. Dinner in the slow cooker
320. Quiche crust
321. Chocolate milk filled circus cups
322. Gold finches crowding for a spot
323. Squirrels tumbling
324. Seeds blowing in the wind
325. A single leaf making its way to the earth
326. Butterflies laying eggs
327. Hummingbirds searching
328. Little girls waiting
329. Finding coupons
330. The little blessings on hard days
331. Tot school
332. Poop messes
Today, if you’d like to share your own marking towards One Thousand Gifts of thanks, of making your life about thanks to God — (please, jump in!) — just go here.