I found the cutest Fourth of July outfit for my little girl months in advance. Not that I was intentionally looking per say; but nonetheless, I had it’ and it hung snuggly between the rest of the clothes in her closet waiting for Independence Day to arrive.
Well, it came. And it passed. And the outfit was destroyed prior to any of our festivities.
After dressing both of my children in their Red, White, and Blue, and gleaming with joy as I buckled them both in their car seat, I started daydreaming of the cute and adorable pictures I would be able to take at the upcoming festival. What mom doesn’t get excited to have free picture props with which to pose her children for some Fourth of July pictures?
I would keep from sharing all the gross and unpleasant details of what took place in the car ride on the way, but since motherhood is full of those not-so-pretty moments, chances are you can already relate to what I am about to share. My darling daughter made a last minute decision to see how many pieces of BBQ chips she could fit in her mouth before ultimately throwing them all up- including everything she had for lunch 30 minutes prior.
It was disgusting. And it was everywhere.
And given that I was driving, there was nothing I could do to help her or save that adorable little Fourth of July outfit.
Since we were only two miles from our destination, I comforted her from the driver’s seat and watched as she continued as if nothing had happened. To her, she had a weird taste in her mouth and sticky arms. To me, she needed a bath, new clothes, and her entire car seat washed. Nevertheless, I decided to first get to the festival to park and figure out a game plan. To my surprise, I spotted a small Walmart bag we had accidentally left in the car earlier that morning with my son’s swimming trunks inside.
I now had to decide if I wanted to spend 45 minutes to turn around and go back home for a new “picture perfect” outfit for my daughter or spare the additional driving time and dress my daughter in her older brother’s swimsuit while forfeiting every opportunity to get frame-worthy pictures.
Decisions like this may seem silly to most people, but to a mom who rarely captures a picture in which all her children are looking at the camera, or all smiling, or even all facing in the same direction, these chances are few and far between. Sometimes I just want good pictures. Good, quality, beautiful pictures. However, these moments also have the potential to distract moms like me from enjoying the moment and embracing the mess.
After seriously considering going to the nearest store to save my dream of coordinated pictures, I decided to dress my girl in her brother’s clothes and enjoy the exciting festival as is- awkward and all.
I watched as my daughter, in her darling sandals, took off running with her brother towards the games and bounce-house castles, and it was in that moment that my perfectionist anxiety took a chill-pill and finally embraced the mess. Seeing my children run together, play together, and get excited about all the activities was by far better than capturing a perfect picture.
On my drive home from the festival, I started to dig deeper into this desire of mine to capture picture perfect moments of my children. It is true; pictures are worth a thousand words, but what kind of words are we looking for? As a mom who knows how dangerous it is to seek value and identity through our children, I realized that when I take a perfect picture of my children, my first inclination is to share it. Whether it is with family members, friends, grandparents, or even social media, I know that I am eagerly anticipating instant praise and approval. After all, instant praise and approval are a reflection of my parenting, and more importantly, a reflection of my value as a mother, right?
But am I really satisfied that my pictures are worth a thousand words from strangers on social media, or friends, or family? And the answer is no.
I want my pictures to be worth a thousand words of memories, experiences, special moments, and sweet conversations with my children. I want a picture to remind me of how present I was for my children, how invested I was in our time together, and how overjoyed I was making those memories with them. I want my “frame-worthy” pictures to tell a story, no matter how messy that story started out to be. I want them to be interruptions in my day where I can reflect on each story and smile as I am temporarily transported back to each pictured moment.
As moms, life is demanding at all hours of the day. Not only is life demanding, but it can also be physically draining and emotionally empty. We may be tempted to turn our picture pursuit into instant gratification from others’ approval when we feel we haven’t been fully appreciated in our own home. My dearest moms, this can be dangerous territory for our souls.
Perhaps the most reassuring truth is knowing our sacrifice and service to our family does not go unnoticed. Our Father in Heaven appreciates every time we carry His sleepy child back up to his or her bed in the middle of the night, every time we clean spills and spit up off our floors (or couches, or clothes, or shoes, or anywhere accessible to tiny humans), and every time we let go of our own desires to satisfy the needs of His children – especially in our family. He even notices when we take our thoughts captive and chose to respond to situations opposite of our flesh desires.
As I look at my captured moments from our Fourth of July festival, I cannot help but giggle as I reminisce about my daughter running around without a care in the world with bathing suit shorts that hung to her ankles. Not once was she concerned with what others thought of her as she bravely climbed to the top of the bounce-slide, or as she chased the bubbles coming from the bubble machine. In her mind, she was cared for, protected, and free to be herself.
And so are we. Our God loves us so much and wants us to live our lives knowing we are cared for, protected, and free to embrace life’s messy moments. It’s in those messy moments where we can rest in the truth that we have a Father who is constantly singing songs of joy over us. Therefore, next time we are tempted to allow our pursuit of instant gratification to steal our special memories with our family, we need to remind ourselves that the best moments in life are not premeditated. They spontaneously take us by surprise and pull us into a world of joyful and glorious memories of our unpredictable mess.