Define Good

I was driving home from the library last week. It had not been a good morning. At least…I didn’t think so.

To be fair, story time had gone well, overall. The kids behaved, as much as kids at this age do.

But it had stressed me out. Most outings do, these days. Getting all four of us out the door, in full winter gear, on time and without me wanting to pull my hair is a challenge that most days I am just not up to. I’m sure I need to cut them (and me) some slack. This is a difficult time of the year, a difficult season of life. But still, when I do suck it up and try to get us somewhere, I get stressed.

Whether they are or not, I feel like everyone is watching me. And while most people are just amused at something Megan’s doing or noticing the twins’ double-cuteness, the fact that we draw attention adds to my sense that I’m held to a higher standard. That I have to somehow make this stage of life look easy. And it’s not. And I can’t. 

When I go places, I’m a bit jealous, I must admit, of the mom who has one four-year-old with her. Or just the preschooler and the baby (sometimes still in a car seat). Their kids get full attention. Mine don’t. Two eyes and three kids means that somebody’s not under surveillance at any given time. And that one is, inevitably, spinning in a circle or pulling something off a shelf or otherwise acting like the toddler/preschoolers that they are. But it stresses me. I feel inept. Like I should, for example, somehow be able to control Alex and Megan even when I’m zeroed in on an epic battle with Erin’s zipper. And that day, these other moms were even monopolizing the bathroom entryway so that I couldn’t even get into and back out of the restrooms without the stress of seeing their kids just standing there waiting while I failed miserably to keep Megan corralled while simultaneously washing Alex or Erin’s hands.

And then, after all of that…after finally getting out of the building, across the parking lot (which is stressful even when we’re all holding hands), and into the van (followed by nearly 10 minutes of arranging, rearranging and buckling up)…after all of that, I got behind a FREAKIN’ GARBAGE TRUCK on the ride home. It was the very, very last straw. My frustration erupted into my typical response…”ARRRRGHHHHHH! Silence followed. For about 10 seconds. Then Alex giggled. “Mommy, you make funny sounds.” Thanks, Bud. Thanks so much for noticing. 

Obviously, it was not a good day.

But even still, it occurred to me somewhere along that drive home, that maybe, just maybe, my definition of good needed tweaking. When I honestly asked myself, “What do I mean by good?” I realized that in my world, good means “easy.” It means “smooth and flawless and without interruption and without complication and without unexpected delays.” I get what I want, when I want, and no one bothers me and everyone obeys and the checkout lady gets my entire order right and the fresh meat doesn’t drip blood on my other groceries and my kids don’t have meltdowns and we make it home having accomplished all of our errands in less than 90 minutes. Yeah…that would be a good day.

But it isn’t reality.

And it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, good is supposed to do less with “how things went” or “how things turned out” and more with whether I ever even looked for Jesus to show up in this crazy adventure that is life in our house (or van) these days. Could an day or activity be good, even if I end up behind a garbage truck or my kids refuse to nap or we arrive totally late or I get only one of my three intended errands done? If “easy” isn’t really what makes a day good…then what does? In other words, what would make God call this day a good one? How would He define good? 

Because, I’ll be honest, I haven’t figured it out yet. Take today, when an unexpected trip to the pediatrician (after a long night = one tired mommy) followed by a trip to Target where the checkout lady was not stellar and Alex was more interested in exploring puddles than helping me get his sisters to the van and out of the rain quickly had me stressed out and frustrated again. Based on my typical standard…it was not good. 

But then again…we have no ear infection (nor do we have hand-foot-mouth either!). And I got the important stuff at Target (or most of it anyway). And I had more than enough money to cover my purchases. And my kids played quietly while I dealt with said cashier. And we did not have a car wreck on the way there or home (I saw one being cleaned up when I put gas in the van) and I could afford to fill my van with gas in the first place and we came home to a warm house and good lunches and way more stuff than we could ever really need…and I start to wonder. Maybe this day is a good one after all, even with my tendency to stress. 

Anyway, this post is obviously not about answers. In this case, I’m a long way from answers. This one’s just about me throwing out the question…and seeing, perhaps, if you’ve already been where I am and what you’ve discovered along the way. So please feel free to share. Or if you’ve got nothing (yet) either, then maybe we can both just be encouraged that we are not the only ones whose personal tribe of Little Folks can sometimes drive us batty. I’m right there with you.

And thankfully…good company is always good. 

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