I can't say I blame you.
However, I am sorry to tell you that this is a post about a box.
This box currently contains 1 set of safety plugs for electrical outlets, 4 toddler spoons, a bottle brush, 4 child-sized tupperware containers, and a green teething ring.
These are things you would use if you had a baby.
Before you go getting All Excited, I must tell you, we are not starting a family until Tim has been working consistently for quite a while (thankyouverymuch).
It amazes me, the amount of people who scoff at this decision.
Baby before job just seems wildly irresponsible. A baby is an investment. For real, yo.
So, the truth is, when I start to get really sad and feel like Tim is never going to get a job and we will never have our debt settled and the entire candy industry is replacing jelly beans with the lima variety, I go to the store and buy something from the baby aisle and put it in the box.
Because the box represents hope.
I picture Tim working someday. I picture us finding a new normal and then completely shooting that new normal to hell by introducing it to a crying infant.
I can't explain it. Really.
All I can do is chalk it up to my age and my instincts.
We're all just animals in the end, aren't we?
Sometimes, before Scarlett lies down, she turns around and around in a circle. She doesn't know why she does it (trust me, I've asked). It is just Something She Does.
Sometimes, when I am lying on the couch, I just want a baby on my chest.
There. I said it.
It is something very animalistic. I can't really explain it.
It reminds me of that Mary Oliver poem from a long time ago.
You do not have to be good...
You only have to let the soft animal
of your body love what it loves.
It is proof that God still works miracles. Even for little-old-baby-ignoring-me.
Today, I was Praying Loudly in the car, and I said, "I don't know why any of [this] matters. We both know we (Tim & I ) are just going to do whatever You say anyways."
And I'm thinking God got a pretty good chuckle out of that.
In the past month, I often found myself sighing in exasperation, "I'm just done." as in "Not Going to Worry About it Anymore."
After a while, I started to feel crummy about that attitude. It wasn't a gracious, "It's in God's hands" statement. It was something more akin to the suggestion made by Job's wife, "Curse God & die."
Ok. Not REALLY.
However, today, as I was looking for a white flag to raise in the oversized purse of my brain, I realized that maybe that was just the beginning of a Soft, Slow, Surrender.
I think there is a big difference between Surrendering and Giving Up.
And I feel better now.
Every Friday, Casey asks what's on our hearts.
So...that is what's in mine. This Thing That I Have Yet to Tell My Mother and this baby box and the hope that someday we'll need whatever's in it.