Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Archives for December 2012

An unfinished puzzle

The kids and I were playing with puzzles a few nights ago. Puzzles hold a special place in my heart. I remember spending weekend evenings with my grandparents playing board games and putting puzzles together. They would often have thousand-piece puzzles partially assembled on top of the bumper pool table and we’d take a few minutes or several every time we passed to try to place another piece.

On our honeymoon, Phil and I decided to buy puzzles as our souvenirs of the places we visited so that in the years to come, we could reminisce while spending quality time together. (Five and a half years and two kids later, most of those puzzles are still in their original packaging. I hold out hope for retirement, or at least a time when the kids won’t scatter the pieces to the floor.)

So, we’re putting puzzles together, the 4 1/2 year old, the 3-year-old and me, and we’re sorting the outside pieces of a Tinkerbell puzzle only to discover that we’re missing some of the outside pieces. I don’t know about you but when a puzzle piece is missing, it sort of drives me crazy. And if it’s an outside piece, I almost can’t go on with the puzzle.

With only a little bit of searching, we found the missing outside pieces and continued to put the puzzle together. (Correction: It was mostly me putting the puzzle together. Isabelle was handing me pieces and trying a few of her own while Corban was pulling all the other puzzles out of the bin and lining up which ones would be next.)

puzzle

© Dana Rothstein | Dreamstime.com

As we neared the end, we noticed another missing piece. It was nowhere to be found, so we “finished” the puzzle and put it back in the box.

Life, right now, feels like an unfinished puzzle. Some days it feels like a million-piece two-sided puzzle with missing pieces and no picture to guide us. I feel like God is watching us try to figure it out and isn’t giving us any help.

This is not true, though. I know that. God isn’t cruel. He’s good. And patient. And loving. Things that I’m not. He isn’t trying to frustrate us, although He may try to frustrate our plans for His better plans. We’re learning through this, even if the lessons are hard and well, frankly, they suck.

My husband has a job in Lancaster, which for us, is the first piece of the puzzle. And it IS a good thing. The commute, and the gas, is wearing on me. And the being without a car more often than not. And trying to entertain the kids for hours and hours and hours on end without losing my mind or patience. And still needing to ask our parents for help with rent and bills because my husband hasn’t reached full-time hours yet.

I am truly, truly grateful for what we have. We will not end up on the street. We will not go hungry. We have so, so much to be thankful for, and a house full of stuff we could give to others in need.

Some days, I wish it wasn’t so hard. That we’d get a glimpse of the picture. That another piece would fall into place.

I know people who have framed completed puzzles as artwork. I think that’s a neat idea. And my hope is that some day, we’ll be able to put this puzzle of life on display as one of many instances of God’s handiwork in our lives. Of a beautiful, wonderful picture of His grace.

“I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart;  I will tell of all your wonders.” (Psalm 9:1)

Saturday smiles: Orange birthday edition

Our son turns 3 tomorrow and in his short little lifetime, he’s turned our world upside-down. I thought bringing one baby into our lives was a major transition, but when our son made us a family of four, we began a fast-paced, tiring exhausting season of parenting that shows no signs of slowing down.

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Wearing orange on his first birthday.

Wearing orange on his first birthday.

I don’t know when his fascination with orange began, but it is by far his favorite color. So our birthday theme is orange. Orange cake, orange ice cream, orange plates and napkins. Maybe one of the easiest cake requests for one of the kids’ birthdays I’ve had. So, for our son’s third birthday, I dedicate this week’s Saturday smiles to him, with these three thoughts.

1. He stole my heart from day 1. I once wondered if I had enough love in my heart for two kids. I had nothing to worry about. I love our daughter and can hardly remember what life was like before her birth, and she’s unique and funny and creative. As much as I love her, I love our son differently. We share a similar temperament and personality at times. He’s a little more reserved in social situations. He can just sit with me and not have to be entertained or talked to. I try not to play favorites, but I know I can be much more of a softie with our son than with our daughter. I can’t explain the mother-son bond, and I hope I’m not turning him into the wrong kind of Mama’s Boy. We do need our space from each other, though. If he doesn’t nap, I’m super worn out by the end of the day.

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2. He makes me appreciate my brother. I’m the older sister, and seeing my daughter live this role, and given the truths posted in No. 1, I now have much more sympathy for the unfortunate life of the younger brother. (I can’t speak for younger sisters or older brothers.) Sometimes, I feel like I need to write an apology letter when I see our daughter treat our son like I’m sure I treated my brother. (If you’re reading this, bro, consider this the apology because I’d be sending you letters once a week, at least.) Being able to see this relationship from the outside makes me more compassionate, I hope, toward those who aren’t the “firsts” in their family.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAnd seriously, our son looks so much like pictures of my brother when he was that age. It’s hard not to compare. And easy to see why siblings born only a few years apart can grow to be friends, not just family.

3. He lets me be wrong. Having a second child meant that I threw out the rule book from the first child, and any other child for that matter. Everything, starting with my pregnancy, was different with him, leading me to believe that there are no 100 percent right answers for how to parent. I was super uptight with our daughter. I’m much more lax with our son. With her, I monitored every. single. milestone to make sure she was tracking for her age. With him, I simply trusted that he was on the right track because frankly, he was keeping up with his sister. Of course, this also means that like a typical second child, there are not as many pictures and I’m pretty sure I haven’t finished his baby book. And maybe I didn’t update his sister’s this year either.

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This kid eats like a champ and plays hard. He’s big but not grotesquely overweight, and I don’t let the WIC nutritionist’s comments bother me like I did with our daughter. (Although I’m secretly dreading his 3-year checkup next week because I know, I know, I know they’re going to say something about him being overweight and for the tiniest of seconds I feel like a failure as a mom. Okay, it passed.) I let him wear dresses when he’s playing with his sister, and he learned to cut with scissors earlier than his sister did. With his sister, I wanted to do everything right to “prove” I was a good mom. There’s still a temptation to do that with him, but most days I just don’t have the energy to live up to anyone else’s expectations, much less my own. I might be doing it wrong, but I’m still doing it.

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Time is flying so fast, and I have a feeling the adventure is only beginning. If the last three years are any clue, then the next three are going to be amaze-BALLs.

Happy birthday, my boy.