Friday, January 18, 2013

Like pulling teeth......

It's a complete struggle.

He knows it needs to come out.

We all know it needs to come out.

The garbage man would tell him it needs to come out....

And still he waits.

And chews, and hits it and cries and my temper flares and my mind shouts, "JUST PULL THE SILLY TOOTH OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And I give the husband the "hurry up and just grab it" look and he smiles. Wait. He wants me to wait a bit longer.

I want to grab it and be done and tell him that we will NOT give him a quarter for the grief he has caused us, and he cries at the dinner table, hitting it again with his fork.

Is it possible to be this angry over a tooth??

I ask for the salad and try to forget.

And I am so frustrated with the pile of laundry shoved under the girls beds. I sigh, shoulders slump, eyes widen, and roll the sleeves up. I know that sometime around tea and with slippers some night we will talk and we will laugh over it, but I just want a pitch fork and a large garbage bag...

We settle for devotions and I beg for the living room because I can get away from the dishes and worrying about if one of the littles swept good enough and can just breathe for a minute.

Breathe and listen to God remind me that we all have growing pains.

Like a tooth, a new tooth pushing out the old and bringing in the new. The better. But always met with resistance.

I smile during the reading. There really is no difference between  6 and approaching 36.

He kneels by Joel, listening to the temple being rebuilt and his eyes brighten. He spills so much from today's school lesson about Ezra.

He remembered. So dirty fingernails don't hinder listening, learning, retaining??? I grin.

And we eat popcorn and put a puzzle together and again I just get frustrated with not being able to find the right pieces. Controlling again. And worries of what if's, like what if we lose a piece and it never comes together right?

And we come up with a neat way to keep the pieces in and I remember that life is messy, but God holds all the pieces together.

It isn't ours to put together anyway.

And I settle littles in beds and wonder if they will be warm enough and one wants to talk about the moon, and I laugh. So important to her, so irrelevant to me.

One greets me with a birthday card for dad in the hallway and I tell him he can hand it to him first thing.

First thing. Promise.

I finally sit to completely relax and take in the day and I hear it.

A squeal. I am almost pretending not to hear so my brain doesn't think I have to move.

"I pulled it out!"

What? YOU did? He did?????

Joel smiles at the stairs.

I'll send him down to show you.

And it's a big deal and there are cheers all around and pictures and relief can be felt by everyone.

And I am reminded that life goes on.

It is scary and you can be a great big chicken and it's ok.

It's really ok.

You can mess up, give up, give in, run away, get angry and just like tape, God hold the pieces together.

He smiles at the end of a very long day like the Father that He is,

at his child who finally decided that a new tooth is best.

And He even smiles when we have fussed and fretted, made everyone miserable, finally relent and still ask if it's too late to get a quarter for complying with the process of growth.

Of course it's not.

1 comment:

  1. Just think of purple pants in the midst. ;) Miss these guys so much!! When do you need a babysitter again? Love to all!