Queen Kelley

Enough of that depressing post.

This week and always, I am thankful (in no particular order)

-that my husband lets me sleep in EVERY DAY, even if it means he has to go to work tired or come home a bit later to make up for it.

-for every new skill Ladybug learns, from using her tiny fingers to grasp Cheerios (and thus sit at the table more happily) to crawling across the floor after something she wants.

-for Butterfly’s vivid imagination that entertains her and me as she invents stories and songs and plays contentedly in her own special world.

-for some of the best girlfriends a woman could ask for, who share my love for chocolate and, more importantly, who share with me and hear from me our deepest thoughts and most heartfelt desires with no judgment whatsoever.

-for Mama, whose willingness to listen to me and talk to me through the years has made me the confident, successful, content wife and mother I am today; and for Daddy, whose relationship with me has blossomed tenfold since the birth of my own children.

-for my mother-in-law who is, judging from the horror stories I hear from other women, a rarity–kind, nonjudgmental, complimentary, wonderfully entertaining to my girls, helpful, and thoughtful; and for my father-in-law, one of the steadiest men I know, sure of what he believes and completely unafraid to stand up for it.

-for my newly married brother and his wife, who live on a state park and love the natural world; and for my sister, who is only a year younger than me but who retains a lion’s share of the spirit of our childhoods and a shy sense of humor that pops up at unexpected moments.

-that I grew up living close to and knowing not only both sets of grandparents, but a precious great-grandmother, aunts and uncles, and nearly a dozen cousins, and that the bonds we formed continue today.

-for an extra-special husband and wife who once taught me Sunday school and now are some of my most treasured friends, always willing to lend a hand, spend time laughing, and love on my girls like a third set of grandparents.

-for my husband’s sense of humor that keeps me from taking life too seriously, which I am known to do.

-for a company that is helping me fulfill my dreams of editing books for a living AND being at home to watch my children grow.

-for a little group of writer friends who have provided immense encouragement, suggestions, and support as I struggle to find time to finish my manuscript.

-for my church that has been on the mountain and in the valley and continues to thrive, providing a place where we can explore our heaviest theological doubts and questions and spend time with our most cherished friends.

-that, even with all my wonderings and skepticisms, God is ever present in so many ways.

-that the King is such a fabulous father, going above and beyond any expectations in caring for our two girls, even giving up much-needed time for himself to be with them.

-for gorgeous, mild days spent on the lawn, watching the clouds, feeling the breeze, running through the crunchy leaves, exploring every nook and cranny of our yard.

-for Butterfly’s “big hugs” and kisses, her songs she sings at the top of her lungs, the adorable things she says, the way she is learning independence, her precious drawings and the descriptions she offers for them, her priceless individuality (a “mud” princess who likes dirt and rocks, prefers blocks and Mickey Mouse to baby dolls, and would listen to me read books all day), her huge hazel-blue eyes and long dark lashes, the small round birthmark on her back, the dimple in her left cheek, her blatant honesty, and much more than I could ever pinpoint.

-for Ladybug’s wide-open grin, her giggles when I tickle her, her sloppy wet kisses, the way she climbs all over me when I lie on the floor, the way she breathes hard through her wrinkled nose just to be cute, her striking blue eyes so like her Daddy’s, the dimple in her right cheek, her soft baby skin, her unbelievably fuzzy blond head that I could rub my lips on all day, the way she smells after a bath, those squeezable fat rolls, her pleasant attitude toward most anyone (as long as they don’t try to hold her right away), her laid-back attitude, the way she says “ma ma ma ma,” and much more than I could ever pinpoint.

-for the gift of watching my daughters grow.

-for my husband’s siblings and the beautiful nieces and nephews they have provided us.

-for the sacrifice my brother- and sister-in-law are making by serving as missionaries in Africa, a place that is starved for love as much as for basic needs.

-for the opportunity to work with the teenagers, elementary-aged children, and preschoolers of my church; knowing them all has been a treasure.

-for amazing writers who craft timeless stories.

-for good movies, simple as that.

-for the King, again, who is my true partner in every way–a fun companion, a fellow traveler on the journey, a great hugger and hand-holder, a true friend, an amazing leader in every venture of his life, a respected and hard worker, a protector and ever faithful supporter…always.

-for a refrigerator full of food and the money to buy more; for fresh, clean water even in a time of drought; for freedom to believe and worship as I choose if I choose; for shelter, nice, comfortable, spacious shelter that contains more than I need; for safe vehicles to drive; for two faithful, loving dogs; for a friendly neighborhood; for my education…

…and much more than I could ever pinpoint.

Some days I feel so defeated. As a friend, as a wife, as a parent, as myself. Maybe the meal I cooked disappoints husband and child. Maybe the house I’ve worked on room by room seems immediately to loop back on itself, bursting at the seams again with toys, clothes, and grime. Maybe it’s been two weeks since a friend emailed exciting news or simply wrote to chat, and I have yet to respond to her. Maybe I’ve settled the baby and begun to edit a book due next week, only to hear her cry again. Maybe my older girl has approached me for the umpteenth time with snot trailing from her nose, begging, “Tissue, please!” Maybe I’ve neglected to realize how incredibly hard my husband has worked, from playing with the children while I napped to cleaning out the garage to clearing the ever-cluttered kitchen table. Maybe I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Ladybug’s birth (and even before, when my huge belly kept me uncomfortable). Maybe I haven’t given even the slightest thought to my novel-in-progress in a month. Maybe I haven’t said a prayer in days.

Defeated. I know the way up, of course. I think of where I could be, what I could be facing, how much I have, and feel ashamed for wallowing. Still, everyone deserves a moment to wallow. It’s part of being human. Tomorrow, after another not-so-good night of sleep, I’ll get out of bed and greet another day. I’ll cuddle Ladybug close as if I haven’t seen her in a week, rubbing her unbelievably soft, fuzzy blond head with my lips. I’ll let Butterfly give me a big hug and show me the block tower she’s built for her little plastic Care Bears. I’ll thank the King for letting me sleep in yet again and feel grateful that he’s got Veteran’s Day off and can be home with us one more day. We’ll enjoy the sunshine together, not worry too much about our messy house, and have a good meal while we talk to each other.

But tonight, right now, I’m going to feel defeated for a little while. Because sometimes I just need to let the feeling sink in. Sometimes I need to exclaim, as Butterfly does when she’s upset and completely weary, “I don’t want to do ANYTHING!”

My Butterfly is stretching her wet wings even farther today, struggling to fly higher above my head even as I pull her back cautiously. Around 8:37 this morning, Butterfly came into the world…three years ago. I wouldn’t trade today for that moment, as it happened after long hours of labor. After delivering Butterfly, I felt like I had been sorely beaten in a boxing match. My entire body was exhausted, my face swelled, and my eyelids bruised. But she was there, all 8 pounds and 3.7 ounces of her, with fat chipmunk cheeks and soft folds all over. In the tiring weeks and months ahead, we discovered a dimple in her left cheek. Her eyelashes grew long and black, framing deep blue eyes. The transformation between ages one and two was astounding. She went from baby to little girl in a year’s time. Around her second birthday, she finally began to get more than a mullet’s worth of hair. Now at three her solid body is lengthening so that pants she wore well last year leave an inch of bare skin around her ankles. She stands by her growth chart, and in six months we see that she’s grown an inch and a half. Aside from the numerous physical changes, we listen to her speech and hear words and phrases that sound impossibly grown up from lips set in a babyface. She can sit for hours at a time creating with Play-doh, building homes for plastic Care Bears with foam and wood blocks, painting faces complete with “nosebrows,” coloring Mickey Mouse and his friends, or taking care of her stuffed animal babies. Conversation between us is more give and take now than ever before. It’s amazing to watch her learning to reach out to her sister and friends, struggling to enjoy playing with others without arguing over toys, and continuing to explore our wide, wide world.

Happy birthday, my precious Butterfly. Life is all the sweeter with you in it.

Usually, the day after Halloween each year, the King and I scout local grocery stores for leftover candy, which is usually on sale at least half price. I spend the next couple of weeks binging on miniature chocolate bars, tiny packets of Skittles, and other delectable treats that leave my mouth raw from the sugar and inevitably add a pound or two to my thighs. This year, though, we have no need of the stores. We don’t have to pay a dime. Enough candy to fill two giant bags was given freely to our almost-3-year-old last night, filling her plastic pumpkin bucket nearly to the brim. Butterfly, aka Minnie Mouse (complete with a black nose and mouse ears), highly enjoyed her evening of trick-or-treating. She and her best friend, Princess Ariel, walked house to house holding hands. Once they got their loot, Butterfly would turn tail and run back to the sidewalk, yelling, “Mommy, I got MORE candy!” It completely thrilled her that not only could she pretend to be Minnie Mouse for a couple of hours and enjoy the company of her friend, but she had merely to hold up her bucket and people would put candy in it. As we admired the spread later in the evening, she ran her fingers over each piece. “I got this, and some of these, and bubblegums, and lollipops, and M&Ms.”

I know candy isn’t a great dining choice. And I’ll certainly be strict about when Butterfly can delve into her treasure. I have to admit, though, that when she’s busily playing, I may happen to walk by her bucket. My hand may happen to reach inside and pull out a mini Snickers bar. I may happen to consume it before returning to her. And I may happen to do this several times a day. It’s the attack of the Halloween candy, and it gets me every year. But it’s so much sweeter when it’s free!