I Wasn’t Ready For You

This Ham Nugget turns two on August 3, 2015. I love her, and the story of her. I love everything God is teaching me through her. Like the fact that some of the things God hands to us when we think we aren’t ready for them have the ability to be some of life’s greatest delights.

This Ham Nugget turns two on August 3, 2015. I love her, and the story of her. I love everything God is teaching me through her. Like the fact that some of the things God hands to us when we think we aren’t ready for them have the ability to be some of life’s greatest delights.

I wasn’t ready for you.

You weren’t part of “The Plan.”

{No, it is most definitely not your fault. But Mommy will explain that part of the story when you are older.}

The reason I am telling you this - that I wasn’t ready for you - is because a lot of people know about your little sister Aliza. A lot of people know about how much Mommy and Daddy wanted to have another baby. And a lot of people know about the heartache we have gone through as a family since your little sister went to Heaven to be with Jesus.

But not quite as many people know about how Mommy wasn’t exactly ready for you when you started growing inside my belly. Not quite as many people know about all of the exact opposite feelings I had about pregnancy and parenting just a few years ago, compared to all the feelings I have about pregnancy and parenting now.

I wrote about it once. Once when you were only six months old.

I wrote about how I wasn’t ready to be swollen and pregnant. I wasn’t ready to leave my job as a teacher. I wasn’t ready to stay home and hang out with a baby, a bunch of smelly diapers, and a stack of dirty dishes all day. I wasn’t ready to give up sleeping in and eating breakfast in bed on Saturday mornings with Daddy.

Giving all that up wasn't in our version of “The Plan” quite yet.

I wasn’t ready for you. But you want to know what? Sometimes, I am still not ready for you.

I’m still not ready for the way you always know what you want and when you want it. Which is usually exactly right now.

I’m still not ready for that one time you hucked a knife past your friend’s face while eating at a restaurant together.

I’m still not ready for your temper tantrum at the grocery store because Mommy wouldn’t let you buy three bottles of “My Little Pony" Colgate toothpaste.

Or your temper tantrum at Target because Mommy wouldn’t let you out of the cart after she lost you for a solid 10.47 minutes.

Or your temper tantrum at the playground because Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t let you go down the slide “just one more time” before we went home.

And I’m still not ready for the tiny speck of hatred I see in your eyes whenever Daddy and I tell you the word “No.”

Just as I wasn’t ready for the helplessness I felt when you cried inconsolably as an infant, sometimes I am still not ready for the anger I feel when you choose to deliberately disobey.

But there are so many other things I wasn’t ready for either as you have glided and stomped and danced and jumped and ran and trudged and thrashed and slept and screamed and smirked and laughed your way into Toddlerhood:

I wasn’t ready for the day you would all of the sudden count to twelve without forgetting the number four.

I wasn’t ready for the time you would take my hand and drag me to the living room where you had set up a picnic for us on your Blankie. {Complete with bottles of water you found for us in the fridge.}

I wasn’t ready for the time I was so focused on writing a grocery list that I almost didn’t notice you had come up and started hugging my leg.

I wasn't ready for the day you would grab Blankie and milk and ask if you could go night-night. 

I wasn't ready for the time you would squeeze my cheeks in your hands and give me a big, slobbery kiss on the lips.

I wasn’t ready for how I would get a glimpse of just how much your Grandpas and Grandmas love Mommy and Daddy, and just how much our Heavenly Father loves each and every one of us too.

I wasn’t ready for the depth of the love I would see in your deep brown eyes, just because I am your Mommy.

And no, you are not just "the child I wasn’t ready for.” You are not some sort of “oopsie.” You are not a mistake.

You are my daughter. You are the one God used to teach me how to love; how to deeply and unconditionally love.

You are the one who helped me recognize my selfishness, and the beauty of the selfless act called “Caring For One of God’s Children.”

You are spunky and precious. You are stubborn and hilarious.

And you are So. Much. More

You, my child, are a delight. You, my child, make my heart happy.

And now you are turning two. You are two years old and I can hardly believe it! I can hardly stand it either. Just stop growing already.

Mommy can’t imagine her life without you.

I might have thought I wasn't ready for you. But God knew.

And one thing you might learn when you get older, is that sometimes "The Plan" doesn't always work out like you hoped. It's a hard lesson to learn, but an important lesson to help people like Mommy realize that they aren't actually in charge.

And sometimes in life, the things God hands you when you think you aren't ready for them, the things that weren't part of "The Plan," end up being some of life's greatest delights. 

So, my beloved daughter Jocelyn Ruth: I love you. I wish the most blissful of birthdays to you. 

Thank you for bringing to our lives so many delightful things we didn't think we were ready for.

Love {Grace and Peace},
Mommy {Kendra}
 

P.S. Has God ever handed you something you didn't think you were ready for? Something that brought you more delight than you ever thought possible?