This week has been one where things I know in my brain really hit my heart with a new depth of understanding. 

 I wouldn’t call myself a worrier, but deep beneath the surface it’s there… percolating. Our families have a lot working against them and it’s hard not knowing what lies ahead.  Have I taught my children enough?  Are they really listening?  Do they deeply value our opinions?  Will they stay free from addictions?  Will they make choices that bring them true joy?  For me, facing the unknown is one of the hardest things in life.   I really don’t like it.  Let’s be real.  Sometimes I just want to know that this story of our life has a happy ending.  And if I had my way, I would write a great story. 

Even harder than not knowing the ending to this story is knowing that I only get to write a part of it.  Only 1/6 to be exact!  I hate it!  And I love it!  I hate it because it’s hard, it hurts, and I can’t control it. 

I love it because the freedom of choice is at the core of our experiences in this life.  Allowing choice acknowledges mistakes, embraces pain, and requires a deep level of acceptance and trust.  It also brings strength, passion, energy, and purpose to our experiences. 

With every choice, I write my own story.  Our stories are messy and full of imperfection, and the only way to travel through the unknown is to trust. 

 What do you trust in?  I trust in God.  I trust that He knows who I am and that He is watching over me.  I trust that He has a plan for me and that it’s a good plan; even when I can’t see a clear path.  I trust that He also knows my children.  He loves them even more than I do.  Which is good.

Good because each of my children are busy writing their own story.  The story I can’t control.  All of my worry and fuss will never change the fact that this is their story too.  Yes, I play a role.  The role I try desperately to fill is that of a mother.  I love.  I teach. I show up.  I embrace them in their yuckiest moments for all they bring and for who they are becoming.  I set aside my own fear and sit with them in the mess. I let them know that mistakes are a part of the journey and there is no shame in living and learning.  I listen.  I ask what they are learning.  I STOP telling them what they need to figure out.  I learn from their wisdom.  I offer support and guidance.  I feel their heart, see their dreams, and trust in their path.  And, then I forget all these things.  I start to worry again and try to grasp for control.  Then, I remember and I write so I can remember. 

So I have a choice.  Do I cling to fear and control?  Do I step into trust and belief?

Today I choose trust.  When we believe in our children and champion their efforts, we empower them to take charge and write their own messy story full of growth and experience.  What do you choose?

I was so touched.  It wasn’t thank you for driving me to school, fixing my dinner, doing my hair, playing games with me, helping me with homework, helping me clean my room, or any of the other things I do for her.

It wasn’t thank you for being nice, kind, funny, helpful, caring, loving, sweet, or any of the fantastic adjectives she could have used to describe me.  It was simple.  It was pure.  

In that moment I felt complete.  I was enough—imperfections and all.

Then I began to consider.  Do I thank my children for being who they are?  NOT for what they do or how they act, but just for being them? 

Expressing unconditional love is one of the greatest gifts we can give.  It says, “I love you in this moment just as you are—messes and all.”

So what does that look like?  You’ll have to tweak them to match your personality, but here are some ideas:

Sitting here next to you, I am reminded how much I love you.           

I miss you when we’re apart.

I’m glad you’re mine. 

Seeing you walk through the door, brightens my day.  

I wouldn’t want anyone but you.

Thank you for being my child.

And my personal favorite,

“Thank you for being you.”

It’s official—kids are back in school today.  It’s time for a fresh start and the chance to learn and grow.  We had mixed emotions leaving the house today.  Two super excited kiddos, one nervous but quiet kiddo, and one anxious and grumpy kiddo.  As for me, I can hardly believe another summer is over.  I miss my people when they go to school! 

Our send off wasn’t quite as picturesque as I had hoped, but at least everyone made it on time to their classes.  I’m trying to take a moment and enjoy the quiet and calm house, but really I feel frustrated and want a do-over for the 10 minutes before we all parted ways this morning.  I don't even have pictures to share! 

Sometimes my brain gets caught up in the idea that my role as a parent is defined by these milestone markers: the first day of school, the birthday celebration, the band concert, the track meet, the piano recital, family vacation, Christmas, and other holiday celebrations.  You know the times we are "supposed" to look great and make something great happen.

It's really a sneaky lie.  The truth is that a series of small moments strung together define our relationships.  Have you stopped to consider the good things that have happened in your family recently?  I’m not talking about grand vacations, perfect school send-offs, glowing report cards, or invitations to join athletic teams.  I’m talking about the simple good moments where our hearts align and true connection happens.  Rarely, are they scheduled.  They just happen.  These moments are so simple and unexpected, that if I’m not paying attention, I’ll miss them.  Worse yet, I'll chase them off!

• Everyone crowding on my bed late at night laughing and talking about first kisses.
• Laughing at dinner and a child sharing, “Seriously, guys, we are funny.  Not every family gets to laugh like this!”
• Offering to polish toes the night before school starts and having it morph into a full mani-pedi session; way past bedtime!
• The chatter of an excited child as they approach the first day of school.
• Sitting on the couch doing nothing but doing it together.
  

In each of these moments, I was caught up in my own thoughts and ideas of what needed to be happening.  It was mid-way through when I caught myself and realized, “This is good stuff.  Soak it in for a minute.  Don’t fight it.  Let go of control for just a minute.  Let yourself be with them.”

Yes, schedules need to be kept and boundaries need to be honored, but we can’t forget to open our eyes and catch the good stuff.  These simple moments connect our hearts and strengthen the foundation for all other family interactions.  These are the moments that fill my soul.  They remind me that one mediocre first day of school send-off does not define me as a mother.  They give me strength to keep going when things get tough.  So let's capture them.  Find a quiet moment and collect 3 or 4 moments, however small, where you felt connection.  Write them down and pull them out in those "other" moments where life gets tough.  Remember, you are enough.