These are the days of...

Silver Buttons by Bob Graham

One of my new favorite children's books is one I accidentally stumbled across at the library called Silver Buttons by Bob Graham. The entire book is composed of mostly insignificant, everyday things that take place in the span of one minute.  I read it over and over again, reveling in the fact that the mundane moments are actually beautiful and meaningful - a mother practicing a folk song on her instrument while her daughter colors a picture in the messy living room, a little girl "mailing" sticks through the slats in the fence, phones ringing in a thousand pockets.

It should be no surprise to me, I have always been awed by the everyday things.  My favorite part of any movie is the first ten minutes, the setting of the scene, the bits of ordinary before the plot emerges.  In fact, the first (and only) series of books I have written were about a girl named Dot, authored at age six.  I turned out tale after tale about Dot, but the problem was, there were no problems in my books.  I would staple together books out of paper and then start writing, but the plot didn't emerge before I ran out of pages.  I remember my mom trying to kindly help me understand that lengthy passages describing the heroine's family members, articles of clothing, address and phone number, and detailed holiday menus do not exactly constitute a story.

Regardless, daily moments are deeply meaningful to me.  As I've wondered why, I've realized that motherhood is mostly little actions strung together.  Picking up the same toys, washing the same dishes, reading the same books. If only the vacations and weekends and big projects "count", then most of my day is of little value.  I'm so thankful that faithfulness in the little things holds value and beauty.  God sees and is there in EVERYTHING.  The big. The small. And even the moments no one else will ever see or even know about.

In the past several months, one way I've learned to record and delight in the little things is to write occasional lists in my journal titled "These are the days of...", inspired by Emily P. Freeman and her book Simple Tuesday.  What is common and frequent today may end next week as something else takes it place.  I look back with fondness at my "days of" lists from earlier this year and the memories they bring.  Here are some of mine.

December 17, 2016
These are the days of:
- a hearth full of snowy mittens and hats and boots drying by the fire
- hanging cloth diapers to dry on an old umbrella skeleton
- Joel sitting up in his crib when I lay him down and laughing uproariously that he can get out of a sleeping position
- Micah learning his first lessons at the piano
- Amelia and Micah running around the house singing Jingle Bells, We Wish You a Merry Christmas, and Joy to the World
- Walking to church in the snow
- Micah testing the snow to see if it is wet enough to make a snowman
- Amelia yelling "no snowballs me"
- Joel grabbing lights off the Christmas tree until we notice him
- The kids clamoring for Caleb to swing them around and make them go "tick-tock" as soon as he gets home

As one year ends and another begins, what are "these the days of" for you?

I'm a toddler mom.

Children seated on the alphabet train rug, some with limbs stretched, some with limbs tucked under, some yawning, some chattering.  Some focused intently on the stories, some warily eyeing the other children. Shy, bold, engaged, distracted.

Toddler story time at the library is one of the highlights of each week for my two-year-old, and it has become a comfortable routine for both of us.  For him, the predictable pattern of familiar faces and fast-paced stories, cheery songs and finger plays is much anticipated.  For me, well, everyone knows that baby story time is for the parents more than the children, and toddler story time isn't much different, though I don't see anything wrong with that!  I view it as an opportunity to get out of the house, exchange a few words with other moms, and feel good about myself for bringing my child to a positive, educational activity he enjoys.

However, this particular week was different.  We had a scheduling conflict during toddler story time, but we happened to be at the library when preschool story time was about to begin, so I thought we'd give it a try.  The children were older and calmer, but not much different really.  As far as my son was concerned, this was about the same as normal story time; in fact, I'm not sure he even realized it wasn't the usual.  No, it wasn't the children that made it different.  It was the moms.

Toddler moms come wearing worn tennis shoes or muddy farm boots, prepared to be fleet of foot to chase down children and take on outdoor adventures. Preschool moms gracefully step around in delicate ballet flats or (gasp) high heels.  Toddler moms boast a uniform of boot cut jeans, yoga pants, or leggings with an easy-pull up or down top to quickly nurse the toddler or baby sibling, all coordinated with a baseball cap, top knot bun, or overflowing diaper bag.  Preschool moms wear anything from skinny jeans to business suits, accessorized with manicured fingernails, bangles, earrings, scarves, and make-up.  Toddler moms sit cross-legged on the floor with their child, singing along with Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes and swapping stories with the other moms about night-weaning and potty training.  Preschool moms sit in chairs with their legs crossed at the knee, checking their phones on the sly and observing their child interact.

At first, I wasn't sure whether to be excited that the preschool days evidently involve more sleep and personal care time, or grateful that my son still has the better part of a year before he swaps the label "toddler" for "preschooler" so I will have time to prepare myself for my own title change.  Suddenly, a wave of panic washed over me as I realized that while the toddler moms seemed to have an authentic desire in their frazzled state to make new friends, the preschool moms seemed to be finding their social outlet elsewhere with existing friends.  I felt an urgency I hadn't before, as if the make-mommy-friends clock was ticking and I hadn't realized until now that I was almost out of time and I couldn't turn the clock back.

A new line of thinking entered my head. If I keep having more children, I can keep being a toddler mom without having to move up. Can I always be a toddler mom? I'm just starting to get this down!  Hmmm, if my kids are anything like me, short of stature and young-faced, they could easily pass as younger than they actually are and could attend toddler story time unnoticed for years past their toddler days.  Plus, they'll be so much smarter and well-behaved than the other kids since they'll actually be older......

Oh, but how quickly my mind forgets the Truth.

It is the Lord who goes before you.  He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you.  Do not fear or be dismayed. - Deuteronomy 31:8 (ESV) 

The Truth is so simple and straightforward.  Future days and future titles?  The Lord goes with me.  Do I need worry?  No.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. - Hebrews 12:1-2 (ESV)  

Insecurity?  A magic number of friends? A thorough knowledge of what to expect? These verses instruct to me to lay these aside.  Besides, why would I even desire to stay stuck at a pit stop on the race?  What joy is there in that, growing stagnant next to a porta-potty?  Daily, opportunities abound for me to grow in bravery, boldness, forgiveness, and compassion.  I would much rather run full speed ahead with the Lord, throwing off those fears, even if it means arriving at the preschool mom stage.  And after I birth my last child, I'd better start saving for a personal stylist.