I’m sitting here cuddling a sleeping girl who has an earache. At least that is what I was doing when I first wrote this. She fell asleep within seconds of my pulling her on my lap with the intent of a brief cuddle. I had been feeling so frustrated with her fussiness. A morning on the couch was not in my plan for the day; I had things that I needed and wanted to do.
I could write about how blessed I am to have this cuddle. Or how I am actually now appreciating this unexpected writing time while she sleeps. And really, I am so thankful for both.

But what is really being dealt with is my need desire to be in control. The reason that I was digging my heels in was because this wasn’t my plan. I am controlling. This fact has been rearing it’s unattractive head over the past few months and believe me, it is ugly. I’ve always had that tendency but somehow, somewhere, I have let it get to the point where I can hardly handle it (at least not well) when things aren’t done my way or according to my schedule.

I have been disguising this to myself under the idea that daily rhythm is important or that the girls need structure. Each of those things are true but the controlling nature that they have taken on…is not. And becoming discouraged, annoyed, angry, or detached when there are things that I can not control has only been teaching my eldest the same behaviours. Who will win, the controlling mama or the controlling 3.5 year old?

And so as I daily have been acknowledging this with a heart desire to live rather than control, I am choosing to let go; this morning that choice comes in the form of a small yet quickly growing girl curled in her mama’s arms for a nap.