Control Issues

I have a confession. Lately I've been a bit of a . . . dare I say it? Hi, my name is Jeri Anne Darby and I am a Type-A control freak.

If you know me, you know that this is waaaay abnormal behavior. It is just not in my nature to not be okay with, well, pretty much anything that is thrown at me, but I have learned that this is completely normal . . . I mean, I am a human being and all.

I heard some news yesterday morning that literally rocked my new control-freak world. I was sadly reminded that I am really not the one in charge. Not at all.

Let me start this story with telling you about a really great guy I went to elementary and high school with. His name is Ron and he is about the nicest guy I've ever met. I mean super-nice but not in a dorky pushover kind of way but a nice that is genuine and caring. He was a football captain and president of the FCA our senior year. He was even voted Mr. ACHS (along with a really dorky girl for Miss ACHS . . . not sure what our class was even thinking), and basically everyone liked him. I remember sitting in Mrs. Foust's senior English class one morning, and Ron turned around in his seat to ask me what I thought about Amanda Cossey. Should he ask her to prom?

Oh my gosh. Amanda was a couple of years younger than us and possibly the sweetest girl I'd ever met. Why hadn't I ever thought of this brilliant match? It was too, too perfect. He was a football player and she was a dancer . . . he was FCA president and her father was a preacher . . . they were both smart and cute and nice. Too perfect.

So they went to prom . . . and started dating . . . went to college . . . and Ron eventually became the head coach of a high school football team in the small Mississippi town of New Albany. Amanda also taught there and was a speech pathologist. When I was a cheerleader sponsor at a nearby high school, I can remember Ron coming across the field giggling after his team played mine because he heard some cheers from our old high school (remember the "Get. The ball. Get, get, get the ball" one? And the "Football jerseys, football socks, we've got the Bulldogs by their jocks. Pull, team, pull!" It's tacky but so fun.) I was so glad to see his smiling face and find out that he and Amanda had gotten married. And then a few years later I found out they were expecting a baby girl a few months before I had Mimi. I was so very happy for such a sweet and deserving couple. And everyone I've ever met from their new small town felt the same way. What a perfect, perfect couple.

According to the newspapers, Ron and Amanda had just arrived at home Tuesday night after taking a student to an all-star game, and Amanda had let their dog out into the backyard. Just an average day in their life. Get home. Put down their things. Put the baby in bed. Take out the dog . . .

Then she spotted an intruder . . . screamed . . .

. . . and was shot.

Ron ran outside . . . and he was also shot. Ron is expected to be okay . . . but Amanda . . .

So now that three-year-old girl has no mommy and Ron has lost his best friend, and my heart hasn't broken like this in a very, very long time. I am so freaking angry and sick that I can't stand it. I want to find this person who committed this act and . . . well, basically all the same things you're thinking right now. But it won't bring her back to her sweet family . . . and it won't changed the horrible things that have happened.

I spent most of my day yesterday being angry. What the hell? Why did something so awful happen to such awesome people?

But the truth is that bad things happen to pretty much everybody in some way . . . as do good things. We have absolutely no control over many, many things. No matter how much planning and preparation and effort I put toward disciplining and teaching my children, cleaning and cooking, and all the many, many other things in my life I try to control, it can all be taken away instantly. Life has to go on, and we have to figure out how to continue.

So today I decided to stop trying to control and to just let it go. Of course I fed my children and brushed my teeth and all the other things I normally feel I need to do, but I didn't lose it on my children when they made absolutely the most ridiculous messes ever (like I did recently. Ouch. It hurts to admit).

Like this guy who loves to steal ornaments from the tree . . .

"I need this turtle dove. Mom won't notice."

I let them eat their snacks in the den and space out watching a movie.

This has been a hard one for me lately because Mack LOVES to shake the heck out of his snack container until all the Goldfish or pretzels or whatever are slung literally all over the room.

Just a friendly game of keep-away.

And then they stomped on their Goldfish, and Mack decided he needed to "swim" all over them.

I refrained from yelling and cussing and spanking and losing my shiz like I did recently over a puzzle mess. Seriously. People, I promise I try really hard to be a great mommy, but sometimes I am TERRIBLE at this. Not often. But it does happen.

So after I completely lost it, that night I got my pay-back. When little Mack hurt himself on something and cried, Mimi sweetly asked me, Oh, shit, Mommy. What happened?

Yes, you read that correctly. She said a four-letter word. It's no lie that I don't use them when I feel necessary, but I don't exactly want my daughter at three-years-old to use them. And I don't say them around her. But I guess in one of my rants over a bazillion puzzle pieces being slung all over the downstairs, I let that word slip. A good friend reminded me that I'm going to mess up occasionally, but I still want to stick my head under a pillow and hide in shame over that one.

But Mimi and I discussed how that word isn't appropriate for her to use, and she was all cool about it and hasn't said it since.

So anyway, I was much more chill and regular and not all uptight and strict today, and guess what? Things went much more smoothly. All I can do while I'm on this earth is try to be kind and good and teach my children the same. I'll make sure we have some fun along the way (a whole lot of fun), and I'll try to be prepared . . . but that's all I can do.

So on that note, Mimi painted a picture. I know it has nothing to do with anything, but she did.

I like how she has to hold her tongue just right.

While I was snapping this shot, she was telling me, "Wait, Mommy! I not finished! Just one more thing! The princess castle needs a sidewalk, so she can get to the train and go to work downtown!"

Like a princess walks on a sidewalk to take a train to her job downtown. She rides in a chariot. Duh.

I will leave you with this until next time . . .

I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labour or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matthew 6:19-34