My Little White Flag

i've taken a moment to sit down.  i can count on one hand how many times my bottom has met the couch in the last several weeks.  it seems every time i get close to contact with this beloved piece of furniture, something needs to be done, someone needs me or there is somewhere i need to go.  and although my older children have found a new independence after moving back, there is still much that i have to do with them, for them and to them.

the day we moved back, my older two children asked if they could start waking before me to fix their own breakfast.  usually they wake me to help them or lay in bed until they know i'm up.  lately, they've wanted to get up and do it themselves.  they promised to clean up after they finished.  i had to give this a bit of thought.  it might be kinda nice to have some help in the mornings.  normally, my day starts with an elbow in the face or a knee in my pelvis, and hearing a small child say, "is it morning time?!" or "the sun is up!"  this is followed by my mother-octopus arms going into full effect as i single-handedly feed my tiny army in less than 30 minutes.  usually they all request a different breakfast and i find myself making not one, but 3-4 different breakfasts.  hmmm, yes, having them do for themselves might be nice...i'll wave that white flag.  i surrender.  you guys give it a go.  see how it works out.  i give.  so after watching reese and maddox complete the task on their own for 3 days in a row, i decided they could do it.  they haven't looked back since and continue to surprise me with their independence.  they've even taught zane how to fend for himself in the mornings.  oh sweet relief.

thank goodness i waved my white flag.  i've never known what it is like to fix breakfast for one child.  echo's eggs have never been so warm, her banana cut so freshly...and my coffee?  oh yes, it is hot as well.

last week, i had cleaned the closets and reached a point of mental and physical exhaustion.  i put echo down for a nap and somehow managed to get horizontal on our couch.  the children were watching wipe out.  zane had made his way over to press his little body into mine saying, "move over a little mommy, i want your warm spot."  

really?  i just got here?  i can't even have my own "warm spot" because you want to take even that.  but i was so tired, i moved over to have him take over.  i waved my white flag.  i give up.  i give in.  i surrender.  after letting me rest for a few minutes, zane turned to me and got right in my face.  "mommy, are you sick?"  i told him no.  "mommy, am i sick?"  i told him no and briefly thought how sad that he thinks one of us must be sick just because i've laid down.  but before i could think anymore, he replied, "good, because i want to kiss you on the lips."  and with that he grabbed my face and laid one on me.

thank goodness i waved my flag in that moment.  a passionate kiss from a freshly turned 5 year old is rare and wonderful.

and a few days ago, echo had one of her days where words could or would not form for her.  when she gets into her mood, it is as if she is locked up and no one can find the key.  this was her day.  pure lock-down.  i'm a talker, a thinker, a communicator.  so to have this one shut down on me is pure torture.  it makes me want to kick and scream and cry.  heath has described it like putting two immovable forces in front of each other.  i fight, she fights, i step up, she steps up.  i push her to talk, she sits in silence.  we were late for an event, a friend's retirement, that i had been looking forward to for months.  we were late because she refused to pee in the potty, even though i knew she had to go.

i got her into the car along with the other hoodlums, ran back into the house to grab something and stopped for a quick prayer, i was desperate.  "Lord, help me to love this child when she seems unlovable like this.  i give up.  i give in.  i need help.  i need Your heart and Your eyes.  i wave my flag.  i surrender."  

i have found, since that plea, that i've regained a little more patience.  i've had the dearest of friends reach out to comfort and help.  i've been given contacts of professionals to call for her speech therapy.  i've been given hope.  not that hope was lost at all!  no, this little one is far from hopeless.  honestly, i think she is such a strong cookie!  she is strong, capable and resilient.

i'm so glad i waved that white flag.  i've waved my little echo flag quite a bit.  it shouldn't amaze me when God swoops in and lifts me up or holds me tight to get me through, and yet, it is still amazing that He answers.  such a tiny request.  such a huge answer.

yes, my white flag has been used quite a bit these last few weeks.  usually i like to regard myself as a fighter, one who needs little, one who can laugh her way out of anything, one who can see the light at the end of any tunnel.  but there are moments when i just have to give up.  give in.

wave my little white flag.

i constantly tell myself to buck up, fight the good fight, hang in there, be strong, keep going, find my way, feel my way, fight my way through whatever is going on in life.  big and small.  but it's the moments and times when i wave my flag that everything becomes more clear, more manageable, more freeing.  i gain perspective.  i gain insight.  i gain patience and peace.

last night i told echo is was time for daddy to take her up to bed. i expected her to give me that pouty face and shut down.  toddlers know when they are the first to go to bed.  she knows very well that the other get to stay up later and she can't stand it.  i asked for a kiss and told her i loved her.  she simply stood up and looked at all of us and said, "i love you guys".  i think my jaw hit the ground right that second.  and then she went down the line, "i love you reesie, i love you zane, i love you maddox, i love you mommy, i love you daddy."

maybe she's waving her flag too.  maybe she's giving in just a little as well.  maybe she's letting her wall down, surrendering.

you know that phrase, "God never gives us more than we can handle".  well, i believe we do have times in our lives where there is more than we can handle.  and it's in those times that we have to call on  The Big upstairs to pull us through.  i was making that phone call.  "i need You."

the wilson summer started 5 weeks ago.  we have more than 2 months to go.  i'm going to wrangle these kids the best way i can, honor independence where i need to, steal passionate kisses when i can, and communicate as often as possible.  i'm also going to keep a few little white flags in my back pocket.  i never know when i'm going to have to throw one up.

moms, it's summer time.  get your flags ready.

"Lord, I crawled across the barrenness to you with my empty cup...If only I had known you better, I'd have come running with a bucket."  -Nancy Spiegelberg