Why, oh why, is this blog even here

As of today (Nov. 8, 2010) this blog will be a series of post following my journey in life. Don't worry, I lack any real Christian credibility ( other than loving Christ) so there will be no preaching, only reflecting on my daily struggles to be a good Christian, a decent wife, an OUTSTANDING mother and an ok person. Feel free to judge!

Friday, August 19, 2011

Peer pressure made me blog this thought

It used to be the past that haunted me.
The hurtful things I'd done, the cruel things I'd said. The ugly blanks I couldn't remember, but instinctively knew were filled with evil and darkness. For a long time that's who I thought I was  — the M&M they don't have a commercial for: Smooth, dark, cruel and forever plotting the downfall of man on the inside, with a sweet, brightly painted shell on the outside.
But I wasn't really that person. And at some point I realized it, asked for forgiveness and moved on.
But now, after a few years of blaming my past for my present lack of blessings (stupid I know) and wallowing in guilt (pointless indeed) I've found that what keeps me up at night isn't what I've already done, but instead, all I have to do.
I bet you didn't see this coming, but this post is less about my personal demons and more about my growing anxiety about my daughter's first day of Kindergarten.
For so long, my success in raising her has been measured by her advanced comprehension and language skills and her striking looks and personality. But now, for the first time, all my hard work will be put to the test as she enters into a true social environment outside of our home.
So I guess this is about my inner demons — I mean it's certainly not about the crap-load of cash I've spent trying to look like a super prepared, all-American soccer mom. It's not about her awesome Old Navy wardrobe, or the Martha Stewart-type lunches I'm planning on making.
No, even through my crazy shopping haze, I do understand that all the money in the world won't make me a good mom. I know that her new backpack and Disney thermos and name-brand shoes won't cover any mistakes I've made over the past 5 years. And her annunciation and mature vocabulary — while awesome and inspiring — won't deflect from any emotional scars I may have inflicted on her.
Did I yell too much? Did she see me cry? Will she inherit my strength or my weakness? Did I work too much? Did we play enough? Am I a woman she'll be proud to call "Mom."
(Read: Did I break the most precious gift God has ever entrusted me with?)
In six  days I'll find out.
In six days, she'll march into a classroom full of dumb-as-dirt, snot-nosed, misfits. She'll march in without judgment (unless they're boys, she hates boys) with perfect hair, clothes and diction and the world will get to judge whether or not I did a good job.
That's what keeps me up at night.
Thankfully, I have a great kid and I'm pretty sure she's not going to grow up to be a serial killer. But more importantly I serve an awesome God, and once or twice a week, when I get a night off from work, He reminds me that her future is not in my hands, but in His.
It's in the rare moments that I actually get to do the nighttime ritual that I remind her to be quiet, be still and go to sleep or no more McDonald's forever and she reminds me to calm down, say my prayers and thank God for all the people we love and all the blessings we've received.
And though I'm freaking out now, it's a comfort to know that in 6 days the world may find out she's has a pair or so-so parents, but I'm sure she'll remind them that she serves an awesome Father.