Last week I wrote about Otis’s completely Pinterest-worthy 2 year old extravaganza.
And then I felt horrible. Because it sounded like I was making fun of moms that are crafty or do enjoy making a big deal of their little one’s birthdays. I don’t want to accidentally make fun of one, I like to do that kind of thing on purpose.
Then I felt even more horribler because I don’t like big birthday parties and I most definitely should because all good moms spend perfectly good Saturdays making pinata cookies because that’s what you do when you REALLY love your child, right?
So there I was, a week removed from writing about my new found freedom from Pinterest, feeling crappy and wondering if I could convince everyone to join us for a 2 years and 3 month celebration in a couple of weeks so we could get it right.
Then I remembered something my mom said, “I am thankful God trusted me to take care of you…”
That’s always been profound to me. To believe that God loves us like crazy and put us on this earth to take care of each other.
I’ve thought about her words many times in the last year, and it has brought me so much comfort.
I worry that I work and don’t get to take Otis to enough play dates.
I worry that I’m (mostly) an introvert and have a hard time talking to a baby about all of his surroundings (“Otis, use your big brown eyes to look at the purple dinosaur in this cardboard book bought by your loving aunt at the store that sells books!” So. many. adjectives.).
I worry that his birthday parties will be (relatively) low-key until he tells me he wants otherwise.
I worry that I like playing hide and seek more than I like reading books.
I worry that I show people I love them by teasing them, and that I might cause irreparable damage by calling you Chunky Monkey (It’s so appropriate! And it rhymes!) or just by writing this blog.
I worry that I am way too comfortable with the house being messy, and you’ll grow up embarrassed to bring people over.
I worry that I like to “go” too much, and maybe we should stay home more.
I worry that I write about being worried a lot.
But God trusted him with me as his mom. He knew all of those things about me (that I’m an introverted, non-crafty, teaser) and He still gave me a kid. Heck, He might have even designed Otis to go perfectly with all of those things about me. Or, not my favorite option but still an option, He designed Otis to push me and force me to grow into a better person for the sake of someone I love so very much.
So when I say that I’m not worried about Otis having a Nailed It themed birthday party, it in no way means that other moms should “get perspective” or “dial it down” on their own parties. Heck no! If you can make one of those pinata cookies then go on with your bad self and know that your kid is getting to know you in all of your Hostess with the Mostess Glory just like my kid will get to know his mom and all of her Chillax to the Max Glory.
And with that I think I just ended the Mommy Wars. All of them. You’re welcome.
For your Nailed It viewing pleasure: