Three. This crazy kid had a birthday last week. He knows what he wants, knows how he wants it, and knows that he wants it rightthisveryminute. He’s spunky and talkative and smarter than mom, for sure, but he still doesn’t always get his way.
Lucky for him (and all the rest of us!) I’ve matured a bit in my last 10 years of parenthood. I’ve learned to pick my battles, and I don’t pick them nearly as often now. We gave the congregation something to giggle about in church yesterday because mama wanted to get there on time without tears. And we did. In these shoes.
Don’t sweat the small stuff. Or the “big” stuff, if the big stuff is a favorite pair of shoes from a hand me down gift box. Mr. 3’s usual crocs were buried in a closet avalanche, so he decided “I’ll wear my big shoes, Mom!” to church. No other shoes would do for my pint-sized problem solver.
He marched right in and was good as gold throughout Mass. No complaints here, and big grins and compliments from all of the people who noticed the shoes while we were walking out.
Ten years ago I likely would have dragged a teary, red-eyed child into church with a proper pair of shoes, five minutes late. Yesterday I held this smiling boy’s hand with time to spare. We all win.
What battles are important to family function? Which can you let go of, just for today?