What Good May Come

 

When Taggart was little and would say something that made me laugh, he’d look up with a twinkle in his eyes and say, “Mama, is God laughing right now too?” And I’d reply, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he is!” Taggart’s smile would broaden, happy in the knowledge that he was doin' God proud and that God might indeed be chuckling at him. 

I think God may do that a lot – chuckle at us.  Put lessons in our path so we can grow.  Put opportunities for laughter in our days so we don’t take ourselves too seriously.  Give us children to keep us honest, humble, joyous, forgiving, grateful . . . (and the list of emotions our children elicit could go on and on!).

God’s subtle and profound lessons in parenting started for me twelve years ago today.  Taggart Boyd Patterson was two weeks overdue and my labor was 24 very long hours with four of those spent pushing (sorry guys!).  And the icing on the cake of all that excitement? He was colicky (read: cried inconsolably, non-stop for almost a year). And on top of that: a bout with post-partum depression for me! I’m not sure if God was chuckling or not, but I can assure you I had not one little bit of chuckle in me. (As I am sure you can surmise, I was an absolute mess!!!)

The joke really was on me as I had all these expectations about what I’d be like as a mom and what having kids would look like. I thought once I had kids – and I’d waited until I was 32! – I’d be like a Mother Earth goddess: natural, patient, organic, free-spirited, flowing, beautiful.  What proceeded was more like Blue Moon on Prozac: medicated, impatient, frustrated, stressed out, tired-tired-tired, and not exactly loving what life with baby was like – at least not in the ways I thought I should be.

And the worst part – I’d gotten myself into this, the kid was mine FOREVER, and I had to figure out how to make sense of this because there was no easy way out. It was one of those life situations you just have to muddle through and figure out as you go.  And it was hard those first few months (O.K., if I’m being completely honest, the first couple years were hard!).

But like I so often tell the kids when they are not up for trying something new, “You never know what good may come. Try and stay open to the good that may be waiting for you right around the next corner.”  And that sweet boy of mine, well, we worked out most of the kinks.  He finally quit crying and began to smile and talk, I finally got my hormones under control and found my center again, my husband continued to be our foundation of consistency and resolve, and we had an amazing support network of family and friends – a net both deep and wide that carried me when I wasn't sure I could carry myself.

And though Taggart did not start sleeping through the night until he was 8 (no, not eight months . . . eight years!!!), now that he is 12, I think I’ve almost recovered from the sleep deprivation.  But more than that (and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to say there was more to life than sleep when I wasn’t getting any!), Taggart has brought a fullness to our lives that is the exact opposite of deprivation.  He and his sister both (yes, I was brave enough to have another but it took a while!) fill our days and lives to over-brimming with love, light, energy, hope, innocence, inspiration, and yes, laughter.

By far, kids are the best lesson God has ever given me. I have learned more about patience, compassion, responsibility, commitment, modeling, serving, balancing, affirming and gratitude in this role than in any other in my life. The task at hand is not easy as we try to impart enduring values; a deep appreciation for what truly matters; good manners (manners Mona Lillian Taggart would commend!); a thoughtful disposition; a grateful heart; a love for animals and nature; an athletic drive; dedication and commitment to family; respect for elders; a questioning take on the world; an openness to differences; responsibility for choices and consequences . . . the list goes on and on and this parenting gig certainly isn't easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

So yeah, on the night of Taggart’s 12^th birthday I am looking back and looking ahead. I think back to a time when Taggart was about three years old and we were in line at a restaurant waiting to order our lunches.  He looked up at me and said, “Mama, there’s no Taggart like this Taggart!”  How right he is, how right he is. And I’d have it no other way.  I love my high-maintenance, funny, perfectionistic, athletic, handsome, kind, non-meat eating kid to the moon and back.

And I can’t wait to see what the next twelve years bring - junior high, high school, college . . . I don't know exactly what the future will look like, what good it will hold, what challenges it may bring. But whatever the lessons, I'm ready. 

Open for the good that is waiting. 

Ready to laugh with God. 

Loving the lessons my children embody. And loving the children my lessons embody.