It was a beautiful, sunny weekend with only blue skies in the forecast when my husband left for an overnight conference with teens in his youth group. He took our car, leaving me and our 2-year-old son to self-propel anywhere we wanted to venture. I recently began to travel more for work and had just returned from my second trip to China in 3 months. I was still re-assimilating to life with my family and welcomed the opportunity to have focused time with my son and a slower pace, close to home.
What I didn’t realize yet was what 40 hours of single parenting would teach me about self-grace. My husband left at 5:30 a.m. and my son rose an hour later. I wasn’t ready to get up, so I pulled him into bed with me. He wouldn’t be still, so I handed him my phone with access to games and PBS shows. I dozed for an hour while feelings of guilt washed over me for giving my toddler the “technology pacifier.” The truth was, I needed the extra rest and it felt really good to snuggle up, close my eyes, and be lulled by the narrator of Thomas the Tank Engine. Instead of beating myself up, I decided to call it “a morning of multi-sensory learning.”
We had a playdate at 9 a.m. with the neighbors on the next block, but my laziness cut into the time we needed to get dressed, make breakfast, walk the dog — and I really wanted a latte. By the time we got dressed, loaded up, and out the door to walk the dog to the neighborhood coffee shop for breakfast (see, that there is multitasking), it was a quarter to 9. I spent half of the morning walk thinking up excuses to tell my neighbor, asking forgiveness for being late.
That’s when it really hit me that I would never want her to feel that way if she were coming to my house! I experienced an “aha moment.” It’s unreasonable to beat myself up over being late when I’m doing exactly what I need to be a happy friend, mom, and human. I don’t want to perpetuate irrational expectations for those around me. I made it a point to not apologize for being late and instead said, “Thank you for being patient with me this morning.” It felt good because it was honest.
Later that evening, when a plan to walk to the local library fell through due to longer-than-normal naps (yes, of course he napped longer on the day I had a different plan for us), another friend suggested we have a potluck with our kids… at my house! I said yes and immediately panicked. My home was a wreck! Going back to my mindset and discoveries of the morning, I calmly picked up most of the toys, diffused some lemon essential oil, and threw together a hodge-podge one-pot meal with whatever I could find in my kitchen. I intentionally did not clean my house in order to keep up some pretense that I had it all together.
It was a wonderful day. I felt more present than I had in a long time with my friends and my son. When we open ourselves up to being less than perfect, we can experience some pretty amazing moments.
