My MOPS group is reading a book called Unglued: Making Wise Choices in the Midst of Raw Emotions by Lysa TerKeurst. The author talks about something she calls imperfect progress (2012).. At first, I thought this was ridiculous; change is real, actual, permanent, change, right? I mean, if I was any kind of a person or mother, I'd just be able to tap my ruby slippers together and say "I can do this...." and it would get done. Yeah, not really. The bottom line is that we're all human. Some awesome friends this week told me I am "perfectly human" (1) (A., 2014, personal communication). So for the meltdown days when we want to print 4' Free to Good Home signs and put our kids on the front porch, here's some of my imperfect progress, just for you....
Beanie (girl, 7) was at VBS this week. Bunky (boy, 5) was having a rough few days and decided this morning that he'd rather not go. So Bunky, Nacho (boy, 3), and I drop Beanie off and trek to Meijer. The closest store is one of the top grossing stores in the entire company, so it's always a zoo and seldom well-stocked; this is painfully obvious when there is a great sale. I opted for a store about 6 miles away instead. Trying to do a bargain run with time constraints and little kids at an unfamiliar store can have some serious growing pains; this experience was no exception (obviously, or I probably wouldn't be rambling about it).
I get to the checkout and realize that I forgot Nacho's overnight Pull-ups, which was one of the deals out for which I ventured in the first place. I was near tears at this point, but had (somehow) managed to hold it together. I asked an employee working self-checkout if she could hold my order so that I could go get them. She told me she'd get them for me while I continued scanning my items. She came back with the incorrect ones. She told me to finish scanning and then she'd bag for me while I went to get them. I love this lady. I run back to my lane with the correct Pull-ups quickly, and some crabby lady who was apparently gunning for my lane (who probably had a 5 year-grandson that was also bored out of his skull) says "JESUS. You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!!!" I plastered a fake smile to my face and said "Hi! This is actually my order. This nice employee is helping me bag so I could go get something I forgot. Just so you know. Thanks!" Hey, she's the one who called Him; I was perfectly comfortable being cross and pig-headed for the rest of the morning. We finish checking out and pay.
We get to the car and unload. I look at my boys. They are still wearing the patriotic hats I "bought" them. I did not pay for them. I'm not going to cry. I can do this. She called Him, so I'm good, right? I say "silly Mom! I forgot to pay for the hats. Can you guys try to remember if you're wearing something you just got? I don't remember things very well. I'm silly sometimes. Oh well, I have to use the toilet anyway." Truth. We walk back in, pay for the hats, use the toilet, and walk back out to the car.
So am I ready for bedtime so I can have an adult beverage and a book? Yes. Are we going out for dinner because I do not feel like cooking (4)? Absolutely. But you know what? I held it together. I only raised my voice once. I was nice, fake as it was, to the judgmental crabby-pants in the checkout lane. And I set an example for my kids that we pay for what we get from the store, no matter what. Was it perfect? Nope. This, my friends, was imperfect progress. A little bit of grace, just for me. Because she called Him.
-rock
Reference
TerKeurst, L. (2012). Unglued: Making Wise Choices in the Midst of Raw Emotions. Zondervan: Grand Rapids, MI.
(1) Mind you, this comes from two of the smartest, loveliest, most talented professional musicians and moms I know.
(2) I SO should've let the little turkey buy the pink sparkly ones and wear them to the first day of kindergarten. :P
(3) 9.5 US
(4) This doesn't relate directly to the post, so I shall footnote: Beanie locked the boys and I out of the house this afternoon because I made her clean up her room prior to allowing her to play in the sprinkler. The boys got to go first because they finished all of their chores.
