Expectations

I just know I've written about expectations before in this blog. How do I know? Because I struggle with setting all of mine just a little higher than I can achieve. I struggle with it a lot so I must have written about it. However, I don't put tags on my blogs (just another something I can't check off my expectations checklist), so I have no idea what I've written or when I've written it...I just know I've written it...somewhere.

So, to give you a little example of what "expectations" I'm talking about, I'll type out a few of the things I play in my head more days than I'd like to admit;

"I should have (insert word here) better"
"I should have signed up for (insert activity/leadership role here)"
"maybe I didn't need to say (insert conversation/lecture) to the kids today"
"I hope my kids don't remember (insert bad mommy moment) for eternity"
...and on and on and on.

Ok, so I don't think about this stuff every day but I do catch myself laying in bed some nights wishing I would have done things differently or wondering if I'm doing enough. That's the big one. Am I doing enough? Is what I'm doing good enough? There are so many times I go to bed wondering if I'm doing the mom thing good enough, if I'm being a good enough friend, housewife, or employee. Why do I do this to myself, you're wondering? Why do I compare, worry, and beat myself down about things that are out of my control? Good question. I don't have an answer...but I am trying to remind myself of the things I am doing to the best of my ability.

So, on that note, I'm going to tell you about one of my lower expectations...which also makes it my most realistic expectations. It has to do with Lynnea.

Now for any of my friends who have served even one minute in Lynnea's Sunday school class, you'll know that I'm really not embellishing the fact that Lynnea hates when I leave her anywhere. She hates it.

At 2 years old, I thought, "it's just a 2 year old thing...every kid is crying in here."

At 3, I figured it would end once she got old enough to figure out that I wasn't going to abandon her because I'd always come back in about 3 hours. The weeks came...and went...and Lynnea still had to be pried from my legs and wrestled into the classroom as giant alligator tears rolled down her cheeks.

At the 4 year old classroom, Lynnea is now the only child who cries like she's gonna die every time she gets dropped off. I can almost see the worker's faces when I come down the hall. "Oh no! It's Lynnea!" I can only apologize so many times before I just have to deal with the exasperation and judgements of the people around me. Countless times I've had to smile as the workers try to offer advice. I've had to inform them that, no, this is my third child and, no, I don't give in to her every whim and, yes, you can take her by force so I can get out this door before it's time to come pick her up again.

See, the funny thing is, she's usually fine 10 minutes into the service and all is well. It's vicious, I tell ya.

Everyone told me it was normal...it would go away soon! It wouldn't continue into preschool, surely not! So, the first day of preschool, Lynnea was excited! She was ready to go. She even wanted to go early! I thought, "we've finally rounded the corner! She's actually happy to leave me!"

Then I dropped her off...and they all took their "first day of preschool picture"...and this is what I got as a memory of that first day...

Are we having fun yet? I sure am. The clinging, sobbing, and hugging dried up every tear I thought I wasa going to cry that first day. This momma is tired. But I do know that the first day she stops crying, I think I'll kind of miss it. It might be nice to get my legs back but I know I'll shed a few tears as I walk back to my car. At that moment, I'll get a big reminder that she's not going to need me forever...