Shaping Our Stories

Let me tell you about two different days:

Day 1

Woke up to a fussy toddler. Teething, perhaps?

Took the kids to visit Daddy at work where Raven, my almost-three-year-old, had a meltdown and I had to make a quick, somewhat embarrassing exit.

Took the kids boot shopping at our local second-hand kids store. Found a great pair of boots for a good price that fit Raven well—yay! While we were standing in line, she stashed the boot somewhere, the location of which she promptly forgot. The store was very, very busy as I tried to keep track of Wren, my eighteen-month-old, while prodding Raven to help me look for her cache. No luck. We rushed home because Raven suddenly needed to go potty and the store didn’t have one. I couldn’t get to the grocery store to get ingredients for tonight’s dinner because of the unexpected delay at the kids’ store (and the potty emergency). And Wren was still fussy.

Both girls and mom were loving a walk when Raven wandered into a dirt yard wearing furry shoes. Instead of returning to the sidewalk as asked, she continued and got into super wet, sticky mud and started sinking into it (“The fur!” I thought). Without looking at the path to get to her, I quickly went over to pluck her out of the muck. Of course, I walked right through the same mud and covered my favorite, favorite shoes (cute and comfortable!) with gray gunk. On the way home, I tried to hold on to two pair of mud-caked shoes and keep a toddler on the sidewalk without also getting her muddy in the process.

Husband went to a football game with his brother (only an annual thing, but it would be this night). Wouldn’t be home until after midnight, so I flew solo for dinner, clean-up, and bedtime.

Wren had a fit about footie pajamas. Cried for 20 minutes after I put her to bed despite repeated comforting.

Both kids finally in bed 30 minutes after bedtime.

 

Day 2

Raven woke up early but came to cuddle me in bed while I dozed, and we waited for Wren to wake up.

Raven interacted nicely with Daddy’s co-workers when we went to visit him (we’re working on social exchanges like this, so this is a sign of progress). Both girls loved seeing and cuddling with Daddy.

Had fun with the girls while shopping for Halloween costumes. Raven is to be a ladybug and Wren will don a bunny or flower costume.

Due to an unexpected flex-time situation at work, Daddy fed both girls lunch while I did some shopping.

While playing in the afternoon, Raven was mid-holler when she suddenly switched, without prompting, to a “nice,” sing-songy voice and asked Wren to move out of the fridge so she could close it. Wren nicely complied. Later Wren voluntarily offered a prized fork to Raven for a turn, amazingly defusing what was building up to be a fearsome Raven tantrum.

The girls ate dinner next to each other and played a favorite silly laughing game (one fake laughs to try to get the other to laugh, all of which ends in lots of giggling and squeals and silliness), but they still ate.

Wren did her sunshine giggles (she has great giggles—the kind that you hear in commercials or on TV), while I nuzzled her after putting her in her crib. When I said, “I love you,” she used the same intonation and some of the same sounds to say it back.

Raven said, “I love you, Mommy,” at least three times before I left her room tonight. She stayed in her bed instead of thinking of dozens of excuses to come out.

Our Days

One of the things I took home from a Power of Moms retreat I attended was the idea that we tell ourselves stories about our lives and our days and ourselves and our children, and we can and need to tell ourselves the best parts of our stories.These were actually the same day. Today. Raven visited nicely at Daddy’s work before and after the meltdown. I went shopping while my husband fed the girls so I could go back to the children’s store to look for that vexing boot (finally found, by the way, in addition to some great snow gear).

Isn’t that a beautiful idea? Our stories are complex and involved, full of lots of “parts,” but we can focus our thoughts in a positive direction when we remind ourselves about the best parts. And why not? What do we accomplish if we focus only on the unfortunate?

All of these things happened today, but when I tell myself about day 2, I feel content and excited for tomorrow. It’s not saying that day 1 didn’t happen, too, and it’s important that I don’t just ignore or gloss over problems and needs that arise. But when I give negativity too much attention, I’m just feeding it. Suddenly I’ll be sure that tomorrow’s going to be a disaster, and if I stew about it too much, I’ll have made myself into a temporary insomniac because I’m beside myself about these mountains I’ve made out of molehills.

So what’s the best part of your story today? What’s the best part of the story for each of your children? How about the best part of the story about yourself?

 

QUESTION: What story do you tend to tell yourself at the end of each day, the positive or the negative?

CHALLENGE: The next time you have a challenging day, think back through it and see if you can find the positive parts of it. Practice telling yourself the best part of your day, your children, and yourself.

Edited by Becky Fawcett.
Image from Shutterstock with graphics by Anna Jenkins.

About Amanda Lewis

Amanda is the mother of three young children and the wife of one fun dad. She enjoys that Power of Moms lets her combine an older passion—writing and editing—with newer passions about parenting, child development, and family building. She is an avid reader, participates in a cooking club, and runs a photography business with her husband that provides a nice creative outlet. She blogs about family, faith, and life at Birdsong Moments .