Let's Go

When we finally put our pretty little house here in the 'burbs on the market, in preparation for our move to farm life, I had a revelation:


I didn't wanna.

On the outside I was dutifully watering my curb-appeal enhancing flowers, swiffering my floors until the kids could sock-skate on them with ease, and turning on all of my 47 million lamps for each showing.

On the inside, I was digging my cute little black high heels in as hard as I could.

One day, during a showing, I took the boys (who are 2 and 4) to a park. They slid down slides, ran themselves in circles, and got generally sweaty and dusty, much to their satisfaction. Soon, it was time to leave. I gave the 5 minute warning. The sun was getting hot, I had no sunscreen, I hadn't started lunch, naptime loomed, and a trip over to Grammie's house was planned for later in the day.

"Okay, 5 minutes is up, take one last slide and come on over, Rovers!"

The teary, stomping tantrum that ensued from my 4-year-old was epic. And predictable. He did this way too often.

I'm not one to mince words, so on the way home, I laid it on the line. "Look, Mr. Man, you are four years old. You are not a baby. Tantrums are not acceptable. When I say it is time to leave, you need to obey. You need to trust that Mommy loves you and knows what is best for you. When I say it is time to go, it's for a good reason..." At this point I started choking on my words. It was like looking in a mirror and talking to my own face. But the Voice wasn't really mine.

"I have other things planned for us. If you didn't come with me when I asked, you would miss out on a bunch of good stuff. Sometimes there are things going on that you just don't know about. But I know about them, so you need to trust me to take care of you, even if it doesn't seem fair or fun to do what I say. Okay, honey?"

As my preschooler sighed his understanding and submission, I wriggled my nose against the sting of tears that threatened me. "Sighhhhhhh... Okay, Lord. Let's go."