Last week I was going to write a post about perspective and how it’s everything. Our moments, years and lives are shaped by it. I can have the exact same day with the exact wrong perspective and I feel like the world is caving in on me.
The day I began this post, I had a great perspective. Paisley had slept from 9:00-6:30am the night before. Change-your-life kind of sleep.
We ate at Waffle Champion for lunch. Met our dear friends’ new baby, Foster Bradley. Made faces with Paisley for about an hour while Finn napped. She’s gotten so much happier these days. Praise Jesus! We went on a run in perfect weather at my favorite time of evening.
Perspective was optimistic.
Then the weekend came. Joey was out of town for a college retreat and my sweet mom drove down to help me take care of the kids.
They were fighting colds and whined all weekend long. I began to think Paisley was reverting to her old ways. I was reverting to my old ways, feeling like I’m just not cut out for parenthood. I left this post in “Drafts” for a week because I didn’t have anything nice to say.
I’m selfish and these kids were cramping my style. I can no longer sleep in or sleep at all sometimes. Joey and I can’t just escape to Colorado for a climbing trip. Babysitters are expensive. Daycare is expensive. Mornings start early and days end late. Car rides are loud. My shoulders are soaked in drool or decorated with boogers.
Parenthood is nothing if not sacrifice.
“After all, children should not have to save up for their parents, but parents for their children. So I will very gladly spend for you everything I have and expend myself as well.” 2 Cor. 12:14,15
Paul was referring to finances and the Corinthian Church here, but the implication is the same: parenthood begs personal sacrifice. When I resist this letting go, my perspective suffers.
Today I’m choosing gratitude. Selflessness. Christ in me. I choose to “spend myself” on behalf of them. And suddenly her cries are sweet and her drool makes me laugh.
His relentless questions are adorable, not annoying.
Joey’s coffee stains on the counter (and the floor) mean I have a husband who brews decaf for me when I’m running late. Blessings. Perspective is a choice.