Day 7: Drain and Re-Spin

Yesterday, in the standards of playing princess and doctor while making sure I'm not overrun by dog hair and dust, it was a pretty good day. The kids let me clean the kitchen as they diagnosed and treated "silly-belly-itis," we used a lazy Monday as an excuse to stay in pj's until 11 am, and said kiddos were being quite sweet and helpful to one another, and to me. Win.

And then.

As I started taking clothes out of the wash, I noticed that they seemed rather... wet. Absentmindedly, I reset the load to "Drain and Spin," anticipating that it would do just that.

So when I came down to check in with the load after the kids had settled nicely into quiet time, I hadn't really prepared for a machine full of water. With my clothes in it. The ones I needed to wear.

The next hour was a blur of me problem shooting with the washer people (lovely that they are, they had no explanation), and eventually scheduling a repair man. We somehow got out of the house to run our errands, which included my sweet girl's ballet class.

We dropped the library books, got the gas, and pulled up to ballet with myself feeling quite satisfied how I had handled everything. Even Miss E's bun looked pretty darn good (if I do say so). But as I turned to my little ballerina to talk about her upcoming class, reality hit: We hadn't grabbed her ballet bag. We had no shoes. No ballet belt. Nothing.

As this realization hit, Mr. C groggily woke, looked at me with tears on the brink, and signed for milk. We had no milk. We had no milk and no ballet stuff, and the weight of the slurry of the afternoon hit me like a ton of bricks. I hung my head trying not to show my face red hot with anger.

"It's ok, mommy. Just pray."

With those five words, the red drained from my face, and my world spun right around. I looked at that sweet little thing, and she was right. And she was watching my every move.

I think we've made it clear that no one is immune from imperfection. Thank God. So I did what she told me. I prayed aloud for peace in the stress and rush of the afternoon. I prayed for Miss E to enjoy her time in class, despite not having shoes. I prayed for Mr. C to have patience with his momma, and to embrace the hour we had just the two of us. Because they're watching. They need to see what my faith looks like, even when it's a little messy and things aren't going my way.

As "Amen" came across my lips, Miss E looked at me and declared, "That's great mommy. Let's go to ballet! I think we just need to ask Miss Emily if it's ok if I barefoot in class."

She uses barefoot as a verb, as in "I love to barefoot outside on the sidewalk." It's one of my favorites.

Here's my point: Sometimes days are undoubtedly hard. Sometimes they're not. Sometimes we almost have it all together, and then we watch things spin out of control. When that happens, stop. Breathe. You're only a prayer away from getting it all back together. Did we fix the problem? No, but thanks to my mighty three year old, we gained new perspective. If you can't see past it, look for a new perspective. It's there, and it will change your outlook. I promise.

xoxo, k.


  1. Such wisdom from a little one! I like that she was able to help get you back on track, AND that she had a solution to the no-shoes problem.

    1. Thank you! She is definitely an old soul, and has the tendency to jolt me back to reality when needed :)


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