A few things I know... I think

Well, there are a few things I know today... Or at least I think I know. None of which are very profound or amazing.

1. low-rise jeans are my friends (but not the crack kind -you know what I mean)
2. elastic - well, today I love you
3. my skin naturally does things that don't seem natural (have a baby, lean over and look at your belly - you'll get it)
4. if you put me on a lazy susan every three hours or so, I could be a sprinkler (aahh... lovely let down)
5. What? You were expecting more? I said I knew a few things.

Seriously. I'm tired. I want to get in that little swing with a weight limit of 25 pounds and take a nap. I've had thoughts about taking a shower... but accidentally forgetting to remove all my clothing. I've had thoughts of leaving the house in my slippers. I haven't done either of those things - mostly because I'm so paranoid that I might do it. Holy moly. What a goose, I am.

At this very moment, my daughter is pouting under the ottoman that is at my feet. I was attempting to help her understand place holders... No eye contact. Pouty lips. It didn't go well.

"Do you want to have a bad attitude?"
"I'm not trying to."

That little conversation got us no place in a hurry. That means I'll have to get back in there and attempt to connect again. (Drat. Connecting is not always my strongsuit.) Where's my relational tricycle? Skinned up my knees and may have brought a casualty with me. Time to dust myself off and try pedaling in the direction of my daughter's heart.

But I'm tired. Did I mention that already? Can I be excused from this pursuit due to exhaustion? Well, nuts. Probably not the best idea. I'd better strap on my big girl panties (as an old friend calls them) and pedal on toward my little princess. Don't worry, they're not quite as big as maternity panties. I can't use them for a parachute, or anything.

I'll grab my crash helmet. That may be more appropriate for those instance when beating my head against a brick wall sounds tempting.

Here I go again... pedal, pedal...

19 days. I've been a mother of four exactly 19 days. I have to admit that I thought life would be like riding a ten speed at this point. A few gear changes... up hill... down hill... familiar terrain. After all, I am six years into this mothering thing and over nine years into this marriage thing. And as I venture into this 19th day... I realize this is no ten speed and the terrain is not the same.

I have often thought God must be crazy to allow me to mother yet another child. Is he laughing up there? Not in an evil bwahahaha!!! sort of way, but perhaps a little light-hearted chuckle? And, no, I am not riding a blue Huffy ten speed. Maybe it's a three-wheel, beat up tricycle I'm pedaling these days. Yes... that's a better description. I want to be better and further along on my path. An expert cyclist. The Lance Armstrong of mothering!! That's it. All I want is to be the champion of my field. Is that too much to expect?

Ummm... YES. To answer my own question. A resounding YES. Who could possibly wield a ten speed while changing a diaper that suddenly turns into a poop-spurting-mama's-arms-potty-in-the-air assault? I'm good, but I'm not that good.

I am churning my legs like crazy on my tiny trike - just like my kids have done. I've giggled in joy and amusement as they've learned to push the pedals and effectively move forward. Some days it was just too much work for them, so they Flintstoned it. Some days they cruised right along. Many times they fell over and didn't even want to get back on. Just like me. I have moments when I think things are going well, moments when I think I want to quit, and moments when I need someone to pick me up and give me a gentle push.

As humbling as it may be, I am a little girl in the Kingdom. I haven't reached the zenith of maturity in pretty much any respect. God is still teaching me how to pedal and that He can move me forward, He can pick me up and He can give me a gentle nudge in the right direction. I want to be content... I want to be okay with not having "arrived" at the Tour de France of mothering. (Can you compete on a tricycle?)

I know that God has me at this place for a reason. I know that every season in life has a purpose. Now, if I could keep my eyes on what lies before me instead of staring down at these blasted pedals that not only move me, but can also trip me up... well, I might really be getting somewhere.

Here's to hoping for gentle nudges and strong arms that pick me up when I fall and cannot muster the strength to climb back into the sometimes uncomfortable seat life lends.