Memoirs From a Control Freak Mom
I've been pretty excited about this cruise I'm heading out on in 12 days with my man. Excited is putting it mildly. Very mildly. I'm simply over the moon about spending 5 uninterrupted days and nights with Cliff- just relishing in who he is and celebrating who we are together. I cannot wait. It's safe to say I'm going to leave town chanting "na-na-na-boo-boo" to my 3 and 6 year old who so adamantly demand his attention, who so often get it because nothing brings him joy like investing in and spending time with his kids, kids who would think he hung the moon if he weren't the type of godly man who teaches them who really did hang the moon. I get him ALL to myself for five days and five nights. I'm excited. I can't remember if I told you that or not. ;)
As the time draws nearer though to leaving our children for five whole nights, I've gone into mama bear mode. I've been planning and preparing for my time away. I've been thinking about what kind of food the house needs to be stocked with, which car seats to put in whose car, where I'm going to leave the medical insurance cards, the daily preventative inhaler, the rescue inhaler, the epi pen, the list goes on and on. Upon realizing our living will was in the safe that was stolen during our break in, we've been working to create a new one and also getting up a medical power of attorney in place in the event one of our boys needs treating. (those last two don't flow from my controlling blood, but rather were demanded, errr.. advised from the former attorney grandmother they have who asks me all the questions I wouldn't think of) I've also created a document with every last basic detail you can imagine-doctor information, allergy information, medicine dosages, the phone number of every living relative and close friend we have. (ok, that one is a slight exaggeration...but if you are someone my kids love and trust-you are on there.) Don't be surprised if you get a call from a weary grandmother at 3 a.m.-that's all I'm saying.
I kid. :)
Those grandmothers survived me. They've got this.
I needed the schedule of who would have the kids on which days five years ago, and that wasn't soon enough for me. I've driven my mother crazy-but only because I'm so much like her. (Just not in this way. She's the world's worst planner aheader. She knows it. She's good with it. She's laughing now.) I needed to know whose care they would be in at all times. Not because they won't be in good care. In fact, they will be in the absolute best care. Between my two sets of parents, an aunt and one incredible friend they are going to be better taken care of than they would be with me. (almost)
Yet, inside of me lingers this compulsion to control every second of my being gone. Not necessarily what they play, what they eat, (well....MAYBE a little part of me wants to put stipulations on how (un)often they can have sugar drinks and junk food, but it would do no good), how long they are allowed to play on electronics or what they watch on tv...no not those kinds of things at all.
I want to control their comfort, their safety, their well being. And though I'm completely confident that they couldn't be in better hands while we are gone, I recognize that those hands are human hands and each one, like mine and Cliff's, are flawed hands. Hands that also cannot control their comfort, safety and well being completely. It simply isn't ours to control.
In this moment, I want to ensure they feel comfortable at night when they lay down to fall asleep for the first time in years without their mom and dad. I want to know that when I lay my head on my pillow after a night of fun and celebrating with their dad, that they drifted off to sleep peacefully and happily-I want so desperately to know that they didn't feel sad, that they didn't feel lonely, that they didn't cry, that they didn't ache inside for one of us. I want to know that when their head hits their pillow after story book, Bible and prayer time, hugs and kisses they instantly fell asleep in complete and total comfort just like they do with each of us. Will already drifting off as Mommy leaves the room, Walker sound asleep before Daddy even rises from his bed. I don't want to think about them still awake at midnight and sobbing-and likely they won't be. They will, after all, be in the hands of grandparents whom they adore and who love them dearly.
But the mommy in me thinks of all these things, and I fight strongly against the urge to tell their care takers exactly what to do or not to do, what time to put them to bed, what routines to follow, what I think would be a mistake and how I would do it. There's nothing wrong with offering suggestions, but the truth of the matter is, I can't control what happens while we are gone and the grandparents can't control how our babies feel inside either, no matter what caliber of perfect care they provide. None of us really have any control over anything.
I'm realizing through this planning, that I might be a little bit of a control freak when it comes to my kids. I've been praying my way through this, because I want so desperately to be the mom who completely trusts my children in God's hands, and ultimately I do. But there's some grunt work that needs to occur in my heart in this area because even as recently as this evening on the treadmill I was thinking through exactly what their nights should look like and how I could ensure they looked just like they do while I'm here. I had to stop myself and ask God to just rid me of myself when it comes to this matter, to just totally trust Him, to know that ultimately He is watching out for my children every moment, and that in reality they aren't MY children anyway-they are His. And if there's one thing I know to be true about my Jesus, it's that he takes care of his children. I know this because I am his child, and He's always taken care of me. I love my children with an intensity that words cannot explain, I could never even put it to pen. I know their grandparents love them with every fiber of their being, but we teach our children that nothing compares to the love that God has for them, and I believe that to be true. So, I have to trust that He is with them every second, even when I am not, and that we have taught them to find their comfort in Him.
When I step back and think about it, I laugh at myself. Grandparents are made for late night TV snuggles, extended playing time on electronics past when we'd say put it away, ice cream before bed and breaking some of the rules-
I'm truly so excited for my kids that they are going to have this time with their grandparents and I am so beyond excited for Cliff and I. If you communicate with me in any form or fashion on a weekly basis, you've been the recipient of my countdown since around day 80. It's finally coming, folks and I am ecstatic.
My children will be fine. The grandparents? Well, their sanity when it's all over is questionable...but then again-I've questioned their sanity a time or two already for actually agreeing to do this, so I think we're good.
Bring on the countdown...my "mommy moment" is over. 12 days and counting, and THEN.... (some of you will get that joke!)
As the time draws nearer though to leaving our children for five whole nights, I've gone into mama bear mode. I've been planning and preparing for my time away. I've been thinking about what kind of food the house needs to be stocked with, which car seats to put in whose car, where I'm going to leave the medical insurance cards, the daily preventative inhaler, the rescue inhaler, the epi pen, the list goes on and on. Upon realizing our living will was in the safe that was stolen during our break in, we've been working to create a new one and also getting up a medical power of attorney in place in the event one of our boys needs treating. (those last two don't flow from my controlling blood, but rather were demanded, errr.. advised from the former attorney grandmother they have who asks me all the questions I wouldn't think of) I've also created a document with every last basic detail you can imagine-doctor information, allergy information, medicine dosages, the phone number of every living relative and close friend we have. (ok, that one is a slight exaggeration...but if you are someone my kids love and trust-you are on there.) Don't be surprised if you get a call from a weary grandmother at 3 a.m.-that's all I'm saying.
I kid. :)
Those grandmothers survived me. They've got this.
I needed the schedule of who would have the kids on which days five years ago, and that wasn't soon enough for me. I've driven my mother crazy-but only because I'm so much like her. (Just not in this way. She's the world's worst planner aheader. She knows it. She's good with it. She's laughing now.) I needed to know whose care they would be in at all times. Not because they won't be in good care. In fact, they will be in the absolute best care. Between my two sets of parents, an aunt and one incredible friend they are going to be better taken care of than they would be with me. (almost)
Yet, inside of me lingers this compulsion to control every second of my being gone. Not necessarily what they play, what they eat, (well....MAYBE a little part of me wants to put stipulations on how (un)often they can have sugar drinks and junk food, but it would do no good), how long they are allowed to play on electronics or what they watch on tv...no not those kinds of things at all.
I want to control their comfort, their safety, their well being. And though I'm completely confident that they couldn't be in better hands while we are gone, I recognize that those hands are human hands and each one, like mine and Cliff's, are flawed hands. Hands that also cannot control their comfort, safety and well being completely. It simply isn't ours to control.
In this moment, I want to ensure they feel comfortable at night when they lay down to fall asleep for the first time in years without their mom and dad. I want to know that when I lay my head on my pillow after a night of fun and celebrating with their dad, that they drifted off to sleep peacefully and happily-I want so desperately to know that they didn't feel sad, that they didn't feel lonely, that they didn't cry, that they didn't ache inside for one of us. I want to know that when their head hits their pillow after story book, Bible and prayer time, hugs and kisses they instantly fell asleep in complete and total comfort just like they do with each of us. Will already drifting off as Mommy leaves the room, Walker sound asleep before Daddy even rises from his bed. I don't want to think about them still awake at midnight and sobbing-and likely they won't be. They will, after all, be in the hands of grandparents whom they adore and who love them dearly.
But the mommy in me thinks of all these things, and I fight strongly against the urge to tell their care takers exactly what to do or not to do, what time to put them to bed, what routines to follow, what I think would be a mistake and how I would do it. There's nothing wrong with offering suggestions, but the truth of the matter is, I can't control what happens while we are gone and the grandparents can't control how our babies feel inside either, no matter what caliber of perfect care they provide. None of us really have any control over anything.
I'm realizing through this planning, that I might be a little bit of a control freak when it comes to my kids. I've been praying my way through this, because I want so desperately to be the mom who completely trusts my children in God's hands, and ultimately I do. But there's some grunt work that needs to occur in my heart in this area because even as recently as this evening on the treadmill I was thinking through exactly what their nights should look like and how I could ensure they looked just like they do while I'm here. I had to stop myself and ask God to just rid me of myself when it comes to this matter, to just totally trust Him, to know that ultimately He is watching out for my children every moment, and that in reality they aren't MY children anyway-they are His. And if there's one thing I know to be true about my Jesus, it's that he takes care of his children. I know this because I am his child, and He's always taken care of me. I love my children with an intensity that words cannot explain, I could never even put it to pen. I know their grandparents love them with every fiber of their being, but we teach our children that nothing compares to the love that God has for them, and I believe that to be true. So, I have to trust that He is with them every second, even when I am not, and that we have taught them to find their comfort in Him.
When I step back and think about it, I laugh at myself. Grandparents are made for late night TV snuggles, extended playing time on electronics past when we'd say put it away, ice cream before bed and breaking some of the rules-
I'm truly so excited for my kids that they are going to have this time with their grandparents and I am so beyond excited for Cliff and I. If you communicate with me in any form or fashion on a weekly basis, you've been the recipient of my countdown since around day 80. It's finally coming, folks and I am ecstatic.
My children will be fine. The grandparents? Well, their sanity when it's all over is questionable...but then again-I've questioned their sanity a time or two already for actually agreeing to do this, so I think we're good.
Bring on the countdown...my "mommy moment" is over. 12 days and counting, and THEN.... (some of you will get that joke!)
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