My perfect tomorrow does not involve another trip to our neurologist. It doesn't include anxiety, worry, fear and frustration.
But my real tomorrow does.
My perfect tomorrow would include waking up late and feeling the wind blow through my open window. Sitting up slowly in bed and breathing it in as I stretch. I would look around and see that the children are all still asleep, and they would stay that way long enough for me to drink my coffee alone and pray. My perfect tomorrow would allow me to greet them with excitement and embrace them gently. I would snuggle them in and breathe their smells, one redhead after another.
My perfect tomorrow would not include giving seizure meds early in the morning or even a little girl who smiles at me through her soft, protruding tongue. No, instead it would include a 9 month old greeting me as she is standing in her crib, or maybe even just a glimpse my way. Yes, indeed. My perfect tomorrow would include eye contact with Mabel. Not a "catch" of vision, but a moment where her eyes lock with mine and I feel certain that she sees and recognizes me. My perfect tomorrow would include Nora and I eating breakfast together and Braden taking his night-time diaper off before he poops in it, rather than letting me change him like a baby. Talking about our slumbers and the princesses we dreamed about, drinking our orange juice and listening to worship music in the kitchen. My perfect tomorrow would not necessarily have to involve a clean house but it would include an empty laundry room and sink.
My perfect tomorrow would be filled with loving glances with my husband as he chases Braden down the driveway and teaches Nora how to ride her bike. In a perfect world, it would involve Mabel following close behind, crawling swiftly and holding her head with awesome strength. It wouldn't include therapy or little flicking fingers. It wouldn't include tears. My perfect tomorrow would not involve my gut turning when I hear of a child younger than my own hitting milestones that mine hasn't--and may not. It would definitely involve me sitting in the sunshine for hours with my sister, and not worrying about being sun burnt afterwards.
My perfect tomorrow would be splashed with cheesecake and dr. pepper. It would be colored with kisses and water balloons, confidence and flirting. And then as the sun moves across the sky and the wind begins to blow the evening air through our yard, my perfect tomorrow would include a long walk, alone. Hearing from God and visiting with Him. It would involve
chicken and corn on the grill and lips dripping with butter as we enjoy a front yard picnic with lots of our friends and their children. It would be followed with tickles and no tantrums.
chicken and corn on the grill and lips dripping with butter as we enjoy a front yard picnic with lots of our friends and their children. It would be followed with tickles and no tantrums.
My perfect tomorrow would come to a close with quick baths and sweet pajamas. Nora and Braden eating brownies before bed and reading books in the living room. My perfect tomorrow would be saturated with love and ease. The children would definitely all be asleep early and their daddy and I would spend time talking and praying together before making our way to bed. Together. My perfect tomorrow would come to a close in the arms of my best friend after listening to the rain on the rooftop for hours. And then, sleeping for 12 and waking up to do it all again the day after my perfect tomorrow...
....but that is not what my tomorrow looks like. My tomorrow looks like an early morning wake up followed by a morning of medicine, an appointment, answers, blood work and probably tears. It involves a boy who throws early morning fits and leaves this mom frazzled. It will most definitely include a stiff-armed, weak trunked 9 month old who does not look at me or reach for toys but would rather be swaddled and sleeping. She will take her medicine and eat a little food but she will not roll over, sit up, crawl or pull to standing. I will not announce her newest feat on facebook or call a friend to tell them of all her new accomplishments. Instead I will rejoice when she reaches for her toes or tracks a toy on the floor.
At some point tomorrow I will look at Mabel and I will recall that I once took all of these common things for granted and I will vow to never do that again. I will do research, cry at least once, and yell more than that. I will laugh when I feel like crying and laugh at nothing at all just to keep my sanity. I will steal kisses from the redheads and smell Mabel's hair as she rests her head on my chest to sleep like a newborn. I will practice saying "Hi" with Harper and beg her to walk to me as she pulls herself to standing and even lets go...
I will let the dog out. I will do laundry and dishes multiple times. I will watch "the View." I will talk to my mom on the phone many times and feel frustrated with some one's incompetence.
I will do all of the 'normal' things that I do every other day. Tomorrow will not be my perfect tomorrow. No day will be MY perfect tomorrow; the day in my mind that I long for. But tomorrow will be the day that the Lord has made and therefore it will be perfect. It will be the way it is supposed to be and I will embrace it knowing that I am right where I need to be because "He directs the step of the righteous man..." Therefore I will embrace every single part of what makes tomorrow perfect. It will be messy and unorganized and not planned. It will come as it comes and go as it goes. As I told Rachel yesterday, "we are all just trying life." And it's true. But I will try it the best way I can and enjoy it the most I can. It isn't what I envisioned. It's not what I had dreamed. But it is what it is.