Are you ready for wings?

Rip off the band aid! Just rip it off!



Not exactly the words I wanted to hear but they needed to be said. This morning, I brought my youngest daughter to her first day of kindergarten and "rip off the band aid" is what the teacher told ME to do.


"It will hurt for just a minute," she told me. "She'll be fine. You'll be fine."

At first it seemed cruel. To wave goodbye and walk away just moments after we arrived at the coat rack inside the kindergarten door. As the teacher showed her where to put her backpack, my daughter looked worried. Her uneasiness made me want to rip off my fake smile and say, "Forget this. We'll just do home preschool again." But I didn't. I couldn't. I knew she was ready for more.  So, I put on a confident smile knowing she would follow suit. And she did. It took her barely a minute to find a friend she knew and claim a spot at the cutting table. She was going to be fine. But was I?


I didn't think I could do it.  I'm very attached to this little one who clung to my leg like peanut butter on jelly. (Part of me wanted to cling to her leg!)  Secretly, I've been dreading this separation for weeks because I'm losing my little side-kick who’s been with me for five years while the other kids have been at school. Besides, turning over your child to a teacher you've barely met for 30 minutes at a meet and greet the day before begs a mother's trust. Was I ready? No. And Mrs. Scott could tell. She was a great coach, though. Rip it off, she said to me. It will hurt for just a second. I hated that thought and the anticipation almost killed me. But in the end it all turned out okay.

Once again things have changed at the Robinson household. Sometimes I wish we were like butterflies and had to spin our cocoon only once and be done with it. But instead, a mother's cocoon evolves and changes continuously and that's how God intended it.

As the mother of four children, change is what I do. My children are constantly changing and growing and because of that I seem to change a lot. I don't always like it. And sometimes it hurts when I feel the initial "rrrrrrip"! But it usually turns out to be the best thing that has ever happened.

The first day of kindergarten and I had three hours all to myself. At first, that sounded like heaven. But ouch! Ripping off that band aid hurt! I know my little caterpillar has a new pair of wings and that’s a good thing. In fact, it is a very good thing. But it will probably take me some time to embrace these new wings. It seems like just yesterday I was carrying my Zoebug in a shoulder pouch I referred to as "her house." I wanted to keep her as close to my heart as I could. And I still do. Before school, I gave her a little heart-shaped stone to put in her pocket while she was at school so when she missed me she could rub it and know that I was thinking of her. Funny thing is I had to buy two. One for her and one for me. (During those three hours, I had to rub mine three times.) I doubt she even thought about the heart in her pocket because she was so busy cutting, coloring, and singing on the blue rug. It's all good. Growing wings is good.

Rip off that band aid and you'll feel a little sting. But in the end you'll see the blessings of giving your child wings.

Raising Kids is Like Raising Chickens--Love Unstoppable

So, my kids and I are the proud parents of five adorable, tweeting, fluff balls! My oldest daughter and her friend talked me into buying two baby chicks on Tuesday. We started out with two. But we found out that you need more than two chicks for them to be healthy grown-up chickens. So, by Wednesday, we had five baby chicks.

The chicks are so cute that we have spent all our time obsessing over them. We haven't cared that they tweet through the night and that they're up at dawn, tweeting some more. Yesterday, the little black one, named Scarlet/Oreo, put its wing around the yellow chicky named Jacq. They cuddled in the corner of their box and we were beside ourselves!

 

Okay, so, the crazy thing is...we know these cute, adorable chicks are going to grow up and someday be BIG chickens. We know they aren't going to be cute and adorable forever. But right now, we don't care because we're in the honeymoon phase of raising chicks. We're caught up in the slow motion movie in our head where we're frolicking through the meadow with baby chicks running behind us. Can you see it, too?

Sadly, these babies are not going to be irresistible, tweeting fluff balls forever. In fact, I've never thought of big chickens as cute or adorable, or really anything. So, when does this "honeymoon so in love with baby chicks phase" wear off?

 

Raising chicks is just like raising kids. First, God gives you the "honeymoon phase." You fall in love with these helpless, adorable, fuzzy-headed, precious babies, whose burps are even cute. You love them so much your heart hurts. But then, when they're two, they paint your wall with blue nail polish (daughter #3). And when they're eight they play soccer in the house and break your favorite glass candy jar (son #1). Then when they're 16 they drive into a parked car at the grocery store (hasn't happened, yet, but probably will). Then when they're 21, they call you and say, "Mom, I've just eloped." (This happened recently to a friend of mine and part of her was beside herself and the other part was okay. She told me, "All I said was, 'I'm here for you when you need me.'" Yikes! Cute or adorable "chicks" do grow up to do not so cute things!

 

So, why do we have "chicks" in the first place? Why doesn't God warn us that raising "baby chicks" can be hazardous to our well being? And why doesn't he warn us that we're only going to hold them long enough to turn around and let them go? Because...God made the love we have for our children. He made it strong enough to withstand earthquakes, tornadoes, and tsunamis. He knows, with His love, we can see our children through anything. That love we felt for them as "baby chicks" is unstoppable.

 

As I hold this tiny, yellow, baby chick up against me, I know it won't be much longer and it will be too big to hold. The day will come, all to quickly, when I will need to let it go. So...I'm going to love these baby chicks into chicken-hood. I'm going to relish in the memories of holding them, watching over them, worrying about them, and tending to their needs. And then I'm going to trust God to help me to let them go.

P.S. Will you remind me I wrote this when my daughters goes off to college? And when my son goes on a mission? And when my youngest daughter goes to kindergarten? And when...

"A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on." -
-Carl Sandburg