Control

Last week, I had a playdate at a park with the MOPS group at our church. I recently joined since becoming a stay-at-home-mom as a way to connect with other mothers in our church. I made sure the boys were dressed perfectly and the diaper bag was stocked with anything and everything we might need (including a bottle.) I even successfully took out the "mall" double stroller out of my trunk and loaded the bigger "park" stroller. I had a few errands to do before we went, which would give Gaines the perfect chance to catch a nap.

Errand one. Find a parking spot, load both boys in the cart, load the item we need to return....store is closed.

 (By the way, these pictures have nothing to do with this post. My mom just quits reading unless she sees her grandsons.)

I drive around Atlanta, Gaines stays wide awake.

We make it to the park, I have to parallel park.

I make awkward conversation with the other moms. Awkward for me because I suddenly hate what I wore to park, am embarrassed by the baby weight hanging around, and wishing I had gotten my roots touched up last time I was home.

Time for Gaines to eat. Get the bottle ready, but of course, Gaines knew that his momma was holding him and her anatomy is much preferred over the bottle. 

During this time, Woody throws a tantrum of all tantrums in the park. Don't ask why, because he didn't even know. Other moms try to intervene, which of course, makes it worse. Wood chips were thrown.

We are causing a scene. I feel the stares. I know they are sympathetic, but can't help but feel they are "look at that lady, she obviously has no control" looks.

I try to make witty remarks while I load my hungry baby and screaming toddler in the stroller, thankful for five-point-harnesses. Quickly nurse Gaines in the privacy of my hot, crowded vehicle, loaded him back in, and pull off....only to realize there is a limb caught under my car....that I could not get out.

So what did I do? Cried. I called Brooks and cried.
"Were the moms mean?"
"No."
"Then what's wrong?"
"....."

What was wrong? It wasn't perfect. I wasn't perfect. I did not have control over the situation.

 It is such a minor incident, but I feel that so many women are facing the same dilemma- We are not in control.

(I lied about the picture correlating with the post. This clearly shows the lack of control I have.)

As I look back on the day, and laugh at how much it upset me, it was also an eye opener. Despite my every effort to make things perfect, I am a very flawed human living in an imperfect world. I am not in control.

(A very imperfect dinner)

Thank the Lord that I am not in control. He is. I am not the perfect parent. He is. He knows the outcome, before I face a problem. He holds it all in His hands. He hears my cries for help and forgives me when I fail to thank Him.

(Toe-Touch with Diaper Rash, for the win!)

So I ask you to pray for me. Prayers that I will have patience with my less than ideal situations. That I will accept and embrace that I am not in control, but my Heavenly Father is. And you know what? I am praying for the same with you! 

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11