Before we begin today, there are two things you should know about me. One is that I talk to myself... a lot. Like, a LOT, lot. Almost constantly when there's no one around and sometimes when there is someone around. I talk about a lot of things, but sometimes, I ask myself rhetorical questions. Which seems like an exercise in futility, but whatever, it's what I do.
The second thing is that I believe that each and every one of us has something that we are going to struggle with until we die. If you are a POF (person of faith) you might think of this as a sin that you have to work constantly to overcome. If you are not, then you probably think of it some other way. In any case, one in my bouquet of constant struggles is patience. I am not a patient person. I want what I want and I want it now. I am not inclined to wait for other people or for things to "fall into place." I do. Because that's life and you have to, but I am not inclined to is all I'm saying.
So, this morning, the kids were hellions. No one wanted to be more that four inches away from me at any given time. Brynna decided she wanted brownie bits for breakfast (?!?) and was going to beg until I gave in. Maren was mad because I didn't go the same way I usually go. Brynna was mad because it might rain on her pool day at camp. Maren was sad because the music was too loud. Brynna was upset because I wouldn't play "American Girls" by Counting Crows. And everyone was loud and whiney and harpy in the car. When I finally got to camp with Brynna and she started complaining about the ridiculous spray on sunscreen she begged me for yesterday, I thought my head would explode.
After getting out of the car, before Brynna opened her door, I muttered, "Remind me again why I had kids." I'm not used to anyone answering.
As soon as the words escaped my lips, Brynna's door slid open and she peeked out the gap. The wind was blowing and her hair flowed on the breeze. She tipped her face up into the wind and sighed a deep, contented sigh. Then she hopped out and we headed for the building.
After I had signed her in, kissed her head and wished her a good day with little to no rain, she took her backpack from me.
"Ugh. What did you put in this thing?!?" she asked to the giggles of other parents, staff and of course, me.
And that is why I had kids. Because for all the headachey mornings and miserable fights and whiney days, these shining moments of who my kids truly are, when it's all said and done: their beauty and grace and humor and intelligence; is more than enough. It's these moments that remind me not only of why I had kids, but of why I get up every day, why I got married, why I struggle with money and why I keep fighting the good fight. Because they, in all their moods, are worth it.
Do you remember that song, "Unanswered Prayers." If there is one thing better than unanswered prayers, it's immediately answered prayers.