On total disasters

Today has not been kind to my daughter. Breakfast for the children was supposed to be an independent activity while I took a quick shower. And while I had been forewarned by Jude, mid-shower, that things weren't going so well, i.e. Lucy was dumping the milk from her spoon onto her forehead to see if she could get any in her mouth, I was not expecting the entire table and floor to be covered with what I thought was a small bowl of cereal and cup of strawberry milk. Nor was I expecting the exuberant exclamation of her accomplishment followed by a cheerful pumping of the fists, “I made a mess, I made a mess, I made a BIG mess.” And while a spanking at 8:30 is not an unusual way for her to start the day it still does not set a good tone.
The morning's activities included bed making (in which the blankets baffle her and the exorbitant amount of stuffed animals that she INSISTS on sleeping with – daunts even me in the task of arrangement) and room cleaning, which, more often than not, finds her on the floor searching for lint and stray hairs to bring my way, “There ya go mommy,” rather than doing anything useful – like say – picking up one of a million polly pocket pieces. Why did I ever think THAT would be a good toy for my child? After the chores we busied ourselves making thank you and birthday cards – which found her more covered with marker than anything – and me frustrated that I hadn't thought to allow 45 minutes to find and replace the marker lids. So, running late, I thought an apple, PB&J, and a Chinese push-up jelly desert in the car sounded like a good idea (because, did I mention it is REALLY windy? - bad for errands – bad for the poor girl's hair). Poor Lucy – she hadn't a chance. After struggling with the apple through the first 3 errands she was 4 tiny scrapped bites in and moved on to the sandwich. I wasn't able to see her from the drivers position but from the exuberant sounds coming from her seat I could tell I had made a bad choice. Pulling into the parking lot I calmly said, “Lucy are you a TOTAL disaster?”
“NO,” Came the confident response.
And Jude, the ever loving brother – whose day had been going considerably better than hers, with all tasks fully within his ability, looked at her with amusement and arrogance and smirked, “Yes, Lucy, you are a TOTAL DISASTER.”
And from the bask seat with a cry of desperation one would think possible only from a fully grown woman on the brink of a complete life collapse came a little voice, “NO, I don't WANT to be a total disaster. I don't want to be a TOTAL disaster.” Smeared from rumpled head to backward shoed toes with her her sticky lunch my daughter sat sobbing, “I don't want to be a total disaster.”

Yeah. I know. Me either.
But some of us are just born that way – and life (and people) just keep handing you things to make you disaster-er. Sorry, I didn't help you out today. I promise – no more PB&J in the car – and those chinese push-up things – we'll stop trying to teach you how to push up from the bottom and this summer I won't even bother with the cheapo push-up Popsicles either. Other than that, I'll probably keep handing you difficult things that fluster you to no end. But before I do, I want to take this quick moment to give you some advice - from one total disaster to another:

1.Look in the mirror each day and say, “Jesus loves you. Really. Just the way you are.”
2.Ignore people like your brother who think they have it all together – he's a disaster too – just kind of a “closet” disaster, if you will.
3.It might be a good idea to marry someone who loves you very much just the way you are but who is a little more of a “closet” disaster person – it's working for me. I recommend finding someone who can at least balance the check book without crying and can light a fire without burning the house down (On a side note – it might be a good idea if you never try to light a fire. Ever.)
4.I think it would be a ok, if you want, (once you are out of your father's house) to just shave your head. I never got the hang of hair and I am doubting you will either. It's just kind of a pain and you are going to have way bigger things to worry about.
5.Finally, other than these few things – you should probably just ignore me – I am going to drive you nuts because when two total disasters collide it is dangerous (I think there is some kind of mathematical equation proving that – about momentum or something.) But speaking of momentum, just know I am not at all worried about you really. Overwhelmed, but not worried – you have the momentum to keep you a float. You will grab life by the horns and the bull will never know what hit her. You are ONE joyful disaster – and you bring joy in your whirlwind.



After everything that happened this morning – and the melt down over her natural state – and her wipe down from her physical sate - she was up and running – through Wal-mart and she then even did a couple of laps around the house for good measure before sitting down to read her nap time story. I took this lovely photo of her right before she went to sleep – to remind me of the day – she reminded me that she felt too – just like me. The day we bonded over our brokenness. What you don't see here – and what I didn't notice at the time – is that somehow I missed a big chunk of grape jelly on her butt and now it on the couch. So here is my advice for anyone else out there. Love us – my daughter and I – but you might want to protect anything easily harmed from our direct contact.

P.S. I think I just put her down for a nap without taking her potty first.