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    What To Do When the Scrambler Stops Spinning

    Friday, July 24, 2015

    The scrambler is always my favorite ride at any theme park.

    Not much of one for a roller coaster with even as much as one loop, I'm the girl who sticks to the small rides. With two little people following along who are near waist high now, the scrambler is the perfect size for them and all the more fun for me.

    I've stood in that line of anticipation a few times this summer and with one passing group of riders after the next,  I've noticed something.

    Standing on the brink of what I call the next phase of motherhood, this summer has felt a bit to me like I'm on the exit side of a wild ride, about to exhale.

    While some might call that a breath of fresh air, I call it frightening.

    For years before I became a parent I would wonder what it was like. I remember walking through Gymboree and baby Gap and picking up the little clothes, the tiny shoes and wondering what my baby would someday look like. Would it be a boy or a girl? I never had a preference really and surely never dreamed I'd one day be blessed with both.

    When my son was born I was so much at the beginning of the learning curve that something as little as changing his diaper intimidated me. I was in complete and total awe of him and I just had this eager anticipation to get it all right. I probably had a big fear of failure too, thinking there was a chance I'd also get it all wrong.

    My children are close in age so soon thereafter it all began again. Just the simple marvel of a tiny little onesies, the smell of a newborn, the way that those tiny little fist's close and open up slowly-those are little breath's of Heaven given to a new parent.

    I don't remember when exactly when it was that I took those little pieces of Heaven and jumped on a wild ride, but I did. Oh my goodness, I did.  We all do.

    People try to warn you, "Take it all in, time flies I tell ya!"

    Or, "Honey you better enjoy them while they're little because they sure grow up fast."

    You smile and nod because that's polite and that's what you do but the minute they turn and leave you retreat back into changing diapers and cleaning up spilled sippy cups and breaking up fights and doing what it is that you do to get through the day. And the day after. And the day after that.

    Until one day you're like me and the diapers stay on the shelf at Wal mart and there are no sippy cups to be spilled and all is silent and fighting has ceased. Baby fat legs turned into long lanky ones and walked themselves into school like big kids.

    The ride spins, it turns whirly twirly and my stomach aches-oh it's a good ache and not a bad one. It's pure bliss.

    It's a day in the pool, a day at the park, a trip to the beach, a trip to the library. It's meeting friends for lunch at Chik-fil-a for that hour of blessed chicken and regrouping while they play. It's afternoon naps, evening walks, catching fireflies past bedtime. It's building forts in the living room, crafts at the kitchen table and dance parties to Disney music.

    It's a few times of, "If you do that one more time you're going to be in time out forever."

    And every now and then a few scares and trips to the pediatrician with uncertainty that builds the faith of a patriarch.

    Sometimes it's a moment so big it's like you're watching a movie and living outside yourself. They hit the ball out of the park, show kindness to a friend, walk away from a fight, read a verse of scripture aloud, bow their head to pray unprompted.

    It's all that and more, this wild ride of motherhood. I wouldn't trade a moment of it for anything.

    The funny thing about a scrambler ride is that though much of it is the same, it never starts and stops exactly as it did before.

    There is no cookie cutter recipe for how to do motherhood. There's no instruction manual for a tiny human given out at the hospital when you check out to go home.

    You step on to your ride, your own wild adventure and then hang on for dear life as the joy unfolds.

    You belly laugh and giggle your way through because you never thought living like a kid again would ever be this good.

    While my youngest goes to Kindergarten in two short weeks, I feel like we're walking out of the gate and they're two steps ahead of me running on to the next ride-one that they're big enough to ride alone.

    I'm catching myself looking over my shoulder wondering how we ever got on there, rode and off again in what seemed like less than a minute. It all went by so fast.

    Now I follow them along and into the rest of the park. A new adventure awaits.

     Theres a lot of uncharted territory out there.  Preferably, I would like to hit rewind and just get back in line and ride that scrambler again- but I'm sure this next one will be just as good or better than the ride before.

    One Response to “What To Do When the Scrambler Stops Spinning”

    1. Thank you my friend for another wisdom filled post. I've missed you and your blog dearly! Please remind me to reread this when Raleigh is going off to Kindergarten! Love ya!