What is it about noticing the little things that makes such a great difference? I find that when I take time to be grateful for the little things in my life, the big struggles seem smaller. A while ago I blogged about a book that I was reading with my bible study group. The book, One Thousand Gifts, shared a message of gratitude. A goal that our group set was that we were to each make a list, much like the author, of 1,000 things we were grateful for. Now, mind you, this was our goal back in January. I am currently on #394! But, I'm still working at it. Slow and steady will win the race:)
So, today we were a little early for preschool drop-off. It was just a few minutes, but enough time for me to pick up my journal and realize that it had been weeks since I added to my list. So, I started jotting things down for 389, 390, 391 ... all the way to 394. It only took a minute or so, but in that minute I felt at peace. I was reminded that being grateful for the little things in my life helps me handle the big, overwhelming things that attack me when I least expect them.
My #394 was that I was grateful that I got up this morning for a mile jog. You might remember last month when I attempted to start running a mile a day with my children. It was a COMPLETE disaster that ended up with a bloody finger, a wild dog and a frazzled mama! And, I have to mention that running a mile a day was supposed to be a March goal. After that experience, the then April goal transformed into a May goal. Sunday night of this week I decided to attempt the mile-a-day for a month starting on May 6th. After a restless night of sleep, I decided to start the goal on Tuesday. Today was day #2! And I did it. I also wised up and decided to do my mile in the morning sans kids! A much smarter way to attain my goal. Such a little thing, but what a great thing to be thankful for. Now, I could rattle off how I've already destroyed my run with a terrible lunch and too much creamer for my coffee, but I'll just stick to being thankful that I actually got up and ran a mile!
The book I wrote this year, It's Okay: Let's Get Real About This Thing We Call Parenting, is supposed to help parents realize that messing up is okay. That we cannot expect to be perfect. That our children will not be perfect. Since it's supposed to help others, shouldn't it help me too? But, alas, I still struggle to see that when I mess-up, 'it's okay.' I still struggle to see that I can't achieve the perfect balanced life. For a moment today, when I was recalling the little things that I am grateful for (the jog, my two-year-old's random unrecognizable conversations, the perfect spring day temperature, etc.), I realized that things are okay. When I take time to be grateful, I don't have time to obsess over the things that are not, and are never going to be, perfect in my world.
A few months ago, my daughter received the sacrament of Reconciliation. I chose to go to confession that day and teared up as I confessed to the priest. It brings me to tears even as I write this. I am home this year ... away from the full-time working grind! It's supposed to be my year to 'enjoy' my children, to 'love' my time with them. I confessed that my sour attitude and parent screams often get in the way of my enjoyment and love. Now it's not all the time, but when it happens, the guilt I feel is overwhelming. The priest assured me that I can't be the perfect parent. He said that we are often the hardest on those that we love the most. He explained that because I was with them more, it was normal to have those moments of frustration and being overwhelmed.
I was left with a penance of recognizing two things about each of my children that I am grateful for. I was also expected to recognize and remember the things that I am doing well. Isn't that something? I'm normal. I'm human. I forget to be thankful for the most amazing gifts in my life. It's okay. The priest told me it was okay. And, in remembering to be grateful ... to count my blessings, I realized that God is good and my life is great. Don't get me wrong, I forget daily to be grateful, but in the moments I remember, goodness explodes in my day!
I'll leave you with a laugh. That day I went to confess, I asked my husband why he skipped confession (trying to make him feel guilty for not being a good role model)! He didn't miss a beat. "I tried to go in. The priest waved me off. He must have known the meeting would have been pointless. I have nothing to confess." If only you could have seen his face when he showed me how the priest waved him off ... as if to say ... perfection is only possible in you, my son! Oh, my husband. I am grateful for him and his obnoxious personality!
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