Good Things

This weekend was filled with lots of sweet moments and lots to be thankful for.

Paisley visited her cousin, Joshua, for a few hours Saturday while we rearranged furniture in our house and packed down toys/clothes in her room (which always leaves me feeling wonky). The progress on the house is creeping along and I’m still hoping we can relist later this month. We made large strides Saturday but everything is now a bigger mess at the same time. I keep telling myself it will all get done and my surroundings will be clean again. My phone beeped and Susan sent me a picture that Joshua drew of him and Paisley – so cute!

I experienced the satisfaction of completing a project that required a new skill. I sewed some hanging bookshelves for Paisley’s room and even though it was a super simple pattern (basically make a closed pillowcase with fold-overs for the dowels to go through), it involved a sewing machine. I’ve always been intimidated about using sewing machines in the past, so finishing this project may open up all sorts of doors for me. Yay! I still have a couple of projects to go, but once everything is done and put up, I will post photos of Paisley’s playroom.

Over the weekend, it seems that Paisley erupted with all sorts of skills that made us proud of her. She successfully said the words “duck” and “owl” and at one point, she grabbed the front of her diaper and made the sign for “change.” So impressed with her!

This Sunday brought the beginnings of nursery at church (which every LDS mother out there knows is a call for celebration). For those not of my faith, our church is broken up into three one-hour portions: sacrament (worship service with entire congregation), Sunday school, and then the women and men have separate meetings for the third hour (Relief Society and Priesthood, respectively). While we have a mother’s lounge, there is not a set “class” for young children to be left at until they turn 18 months. Up until this point, the parents take their kiddos to class with them. Which is a breeze when they are newborns who are content to sleep in a carrier and a nightmare when they are walking, babbling whirlwinds of chaos. Our experience has been the latter lately. I can’t even remember the last time that I made it through Relief Society. To be honest, I get a little anxious in Sacrament Meetings, as I count down how many prayers/quiet lulls I need to get through without Paisley erupting with sound/commotion. Queuing up different books/finger puppets/teether toys to anticipate such events has become a delicate dance for Jeromy and I. I think I’m also more sensitive to it than others around me are because she’s “my kid” and I don’t want to be a source of distraction for others.

Anyhoo, Paisley is still a few weeks away from the 18-month mark but we thought we would take her to the nursery class and stay in there with her since we end up juggling her during our other classes anyways. She was a rock star and I couldn’t have been any more proud. She played with toys and was content to go off away from the other kids and just do her own thing (she scored a riding toy and had a blast). Then, it was song time. They got out their chairs and Paisley sat like a good girl while the music instructor started. All of our singing at home paid off because she did the hand movements and was focused on her task. I was so tickled and felt like my heart would explode with pride. She loves music and it really shows every time there is singing around her. All the kiddos lined up for snack time and she found her chair. At one point before snack started, she turned to us and waved “bye bye.” Since she seemed fine and content, the teacher said that she could stay and Jeromy and I could go on to class. I told her that she could come get me if she fussed. We slipped out and paused and heard nothing. After a few minutes, Jeromy peeked in the window and she was fine. No crying, no meltdown… nothing. Easy as pie. When we picked her up, she came out with a worksheet about prayer from her lesson time – fun! I felt like running down the hall yelling “boo-yeah!” to anyone who would listen. I called my mother and gushed instead. Heh.

This experience gave me a bit of comfort. Most women in my congregation stay home with their small children and can be there to work with them nonstop. Which is awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I have reoccurring guilt about being away from Paisley during the work week and am constantly focused on what I can’t give her (even though this arrangement is financially necessary at this time… we are working on getting on higher ground). But after my experience yesterday, I realized… she’s just fine. More than fine. She was stellar in there and blew away any expectations one might have. She follows directions, participates, shows joy, and doesn’t fuss. She has confidence and knows we will come back. I can’t hope for more than that. Jeromy and I always comment on what a good kid she is… and it is completely true. I’m happy when experiences like this make all the daily, behind-the-scenes stuff boil to the surface and makes you think, “Huh… I haven’t screwed up as bad as I thought.” All the songs over and over. Routines. Every bit of it counts and manifests itself somewhere else (much like spiritual habits – imagine that). I now understand why parents cry at recitals or how sloppy finger paintings are displayed with pride. Little accomplishments act as signposts in the road to let you know that you are going in the right direction. For a while, you trudge along, wondering if you are on course and then your child shows kindness or obedience and it quickens your steps and makes you push ahead with new vigor. I love being a mother. More than any title that I’ve ever held.

It was a good weekend with good things indeed.