Lately, Sam has been obsessed with when she'll be able to feel the baby kick. She asks all the time if she can feel it yet, and I explained that I would probably feel it long before she could, but I couldn't even feel it yet. She was very upset at this and grumbled something under her breath about "everything with babies takes sooooo long." Yesterday in the middle of church, she slammed her head into my stomach (which of course felt absolutely fabulous, and wasn't a huge uncomfortable jab that made me instantly have to pee--and that's a huge lie), and then informed me she could may not be able to feel the baby kick, but she could hear the baby crying in there. If that were in any way true, it would be supremely creepy. Horror movie creepy. Sometimes kids come up with the creepiest things, and don't even realize how terrifying that would actually be in reality.
Naturally, I thought she'd be excited when last night in the car, I turned around and said "Sam, I'm pretty sure I did just feel the baby kick!"
Instead, she looked back at me, sighed and said "Yes. Well. I also just farted." She seemed irritated that no one was celebrating that as much as the baby kicking. As if her passing gas is even close to rare, or in any way cute.
Face palm.
I suppose we have reached that stage when things that she thinks are going to be exciting actually turn out to be a little irritating or cause jealousy. That's a natural and understandable emotion, but that doesn't mean its gotta be indulged. She's just barely getting old enough to understand "suck it up and act happy no matter how you feel, because you aren't diminished by other people's good fortune," but that's a lesson a lot of adults need to learn still. Sam isn't less special to me because a new baby is coming (and neither is Peyton). I am not less awesome if a friend gets a great high paying job, or a new house with a kitchen I would love, or is lucky enough to have a pregnancy that doesn't come with severe nausea, high-school flashback acne, and stretch marks. It's not like my stretch marks would disappear if another woman got them. If this life has taught me anything, it's that there are plenty of stretch marks to go around, metaphorically speaking. There are also plenty of great things, like love, happiness, and opportunity to go around too.
Life is not a zero sum game, where one person finding happiness means another can't. It's a lesson I have to find a way to teach to my four-year-old, but it's a lesson we could all stand to brush up on sometimes. I think the world we live in would be a much better place if we all understood, not just knew, but understood, that envy is a pretty destructive emotion. It only takes and diminishes the person that possesses it. What it does not do is add to the envious, detract from the envied, or make the world "more fair." Of course, as Sam so aptly demonstrated to me last night, envy is a natural and powerful emotion, so this is much easier said than done.
In this season of Thanksgiving, I hope I can take the time to really count my blessings, without buying into the temptation to count my blessings only as they compare to others. What comes easily to me, may come hard to others, and what I consider impossible (like running), others do with ease (I've heard some people even enjoy it. Mystifying). That may not be "fair" on the face of that one facet of life, but when you look at the overall package, I believe in a loving Heavenly Father who is supremely fair in the end. I believe that our vision is more limited than we even realize, so we would all be better off if we just stopped squinting so hard to read the fine print on other people's lives, and instead, focused on our own story. I also believe that if we could see all the fine print, we probably wouldn't trade lives with someone else we thought was so blessed, if it actually meant taking on their struggles as well. So, that's my goal this week, to count my blessings and not grade them on a curve.
The biggest blessings in my life are my children and my husband. All three (soon to be four) of these amazing people in my life are infinitely special to me. All of them have their own special talents and abilities, that thankfully go well beyond bodily functions (although Sam and Peyton are very talented with tooting and belching, respectively). I'm thankful for my husband, who is a great man and a hands on partner in life--the kind you want with you in the trenches, but also for the long haul. He's also a fabulous dad. I'm lucky to have the opportunity to work with him every day to raise these great and funny children, and I wouldn't trade my crazy kiddos for anyone else in the world. Not even for a kid who never farted or burped, or one that came potty trained. And that's saying something when you hate diapers as much as I do.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
**Disclaimer: If this third kid actually did show up potty trained, I wouldn't exactly complain. I would be thrilled. Just in case anyone up there with any control over these things reads my blog.
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