Unmade beds.
When I was a teenager, I went through this rebellious stage where I refused to make up my bed every morning. I saw no point in spending the five minutes time to do something that I was going to undo twelve hours later.
It's okay to laugh at the fact an unmade bed was my rebellious stage. My mother is personally thanking God for it.
My mom didn't argue with me. I remember her telling me repeatedly thru my teenage age years "pick and choose your battles." She let it go and every night, I happily climbed into an unmade bed.
When I was fifteen, I didn't get what she meant. Now that I'm a mom myself, I get it... I really do. I think I may even go on record that "pick and choose your battles" is one of the biggest lessons I learned from my mom about being a mom.
But then I grew up.
I became a stay-at-home mom myself and somewhere along the road, a made up bed became a symbol of accomplishment.
Kinda like it's a required thing for anyone that was home all day long. I'm sure David took note each and every night that he climbed into a nicely made bed (please note the sarcasm).
Heck, there is a pin on pinterest about "why I make my bed everyday" so it must be important, right?
So, these past few years, I got into the habit of making my bed each and everyday.
Then I had a baby.
For the first two years, my bed making continued without missing a beat. She was in a crib, so I quickly made up the bed each and every morning before rescuing her from the crib and my bed went untouched till nighttime.
Then that baby grew up, moved out of a crib, and I found her crawling into my bed each and every morning.
I love that moment each day. Really, I do. I think I may keep homeschooling just for that reason alone (totally joking).
However, as soon as our morning cuddling time was over, I was quickly making up the bed and going on about our day.
Over the past year or so, even after I did my daily "make up the bed" routine, that I'd often throughout the day find Olivia on my nicely made up bed.
As much as I hate to admit it, I did the 'mother of the year" thing of getting on to her for messing up my freshly made up bed. Like that was the only thing I had accomplished all day and David would dock my pay because he had to climb into a bed with wrinkled covers and sheets.
I vividly remember a scene from while we were living in the farmhouse of me losing it at Olivia over her messing up my freshly made bed.
....but then life happened.
You all are familiar with the story by now and know what kinda life happened.
It's funny how those things give you new perspectives on life. In fact, I think I've been given just as many new perspectives on life within the last six months as I have my whole thirty two years before.
Within a couple of months of Olivia's diagnoses, I noticed she gravitated towards our bed on her days she felt her worse. To even go further into the story, the day that started it all, she was in our bed the entire day and refused to leave.
Perspective.
I get it now...our bed is a safe place for our girls.
It's where they want to lay when they have nightmares in the middle of the night. It's where they want to be when they're teething or having a "day after chemo." It's where they play on rainy days and where they want to watch movies as a family. It's where they feel closes to us.
That being said, our freshly made up bed often gets messed up in their daily activities.
My often times only daily accomplishment gets thrown to the wind.
Perspective.
I've learned to let it go. I've learned to pick and choose my battles.
That battle is one I don't want to fight.
An unmade bed is not a sign of what I've accomplished during my day.
If our bed is their safe haven, I want them to know it's always there waiting for them...messy covers and all.
It's okay to laugh at the fact an unmade bed was my rebellious stage. My mother is personally thanking God for it.
My mom didn't argue with me. I remember her telling me repeatedly thru my teenage age years "pick and choose your battles." She let it go and every night, I happily climbed into an unmade bed.
When I was fifteen, I didn't get what she meant. Now that I'm a mom myself, I get it... I really do. I think I may even go on record that "pick and choose your battles" is one of the biggest lessons I learned from my mom about being a mom.
But then I grew up.
I became a stay-at-home mom myself and somewhere along the road, a made up bed became a symbol of accomplishment.
Kinda like it's a required thing for anyone that was home all day long. I'm sure David took note each and every night that he climbed into a nicely made bed (please note the sarcasm).
Heck, there is a pin on pinterest about "why I make my bed everyday" so it must be important, right?
So, these past few years, I got into the habit of making my bed each and everyday.
Then I had a baby.
For the first two years, my bed making continued without missing a beat. She was in a crib, so I quickly made up the bed each and every morning before rescuing her from the crib and my bed went untouched till nighttime.
Then that baby grew up, moved out of a crib, and I found her crawling into my bed each and every morning.
I love that moment each day. Really, I do. I think I may keep homeschooling just for that reason alone (totally joking).
However, as soon as our morning cuddling time was over, I was quickly making up the bed and going on about our day.
Over the past year or so, even after I did my daily "make up the bed" routine, that I'd often throughout the day find Olivia on my nicely made up bed.
As much as I hate to admit it, I did the 'mother of the year" thing of getting on to her for messing up my freshly made up bed. Like that was the only thing I had accomplished all day and David would dock my pay because he had to climb into a bed with wrinkled covers and sheets.
I vividly remember a scene from while we were living in the farmhouse of me losing it at Olivia over her messing up my freshly made bed.
....but then life happened.
You all are familiar with the story by now and know what kinda life happened.
It's funny how those things give you new perspectives on life. In fact, I think I've been given just as many new perspectives on life within the last six months as I have my whole thirty two years before.
Within a couple of months of Olivia's diagnoses, I noticed she gravitated towards our bed on her days she felt her worse. To even go further into the story, the day that started it all, she was in our bed the entire day and refused to leave.
Perspective.
I get it now...our bed is a safe place for our girls.
It's where they want to lay when they have nightmares in the middle of the night. It's where they want to be when they're teething or having a "day after chemo." It's where they play on rainy days and where they want to watch movies as a family. It's where they feel closes to us.
That being said, our freshly made up bed often gets messed up in their daily activities.
My often times only daily accomplishment gets thrown to the wind.
Perspective.
I've learned to let it go. I've learned to pick and choose my battles.
That battle is one I don't want to fight.
An unmade bed is not a sign of what I've accomplished during my day.
If our bed is their safe haven, I want them to know it's always there waiting for them...messy covers and all.
Comments
I am a total bed maker bahahaha..but it's totally fine if she destroys it..one day she won't be here to do it :) :(