A Tale of Two Sisters

I had to revert to my Lamaze breathing when I walked into her room. The day before, we had cleaned her room, and now this; a room worked over with giblets of craft projects, glue stuck in the carpet, dresser drawers wide open, multiple water glasses on her night stand even though only one night had passed, her entire stuffed animal collection taking up residence in her unmade bed, dirty clothes stuffed under her bed and the teeny tiniest objects known to man (i.e seashells, Barbie dolls shoes, sticks collected as Fairy wands, tissue paper shreds used as Fairy's blanket in her card board house displayed with on the book shelf) EVERY.WHERE the eye could behold.

" JU-LI-AAAAAA!!!!!"

Her adorably sweet face, with her adorably sweet new hair do, peered around the bedroom door and smiled at me as I was about to launch into one of my perfected, "we cannot live like this!!!" speeches, when a lump formed in my throat as my mind flashed back to a year ago. This time last year, Julia's face was often filled with sadness, confusion, stubbornness, and a pain she would not let me enter in to. But as she stood there with this rascally-naughty, smile on her face, I knew that her sadness and confusion had been replaced with this calm, steady, glow. 

I get completely overwhelmed when I think about how our Julia has grown in this last year. I almost cannot compose these words because the tears pour so quickly. More so than ever, I am learning that we are not the sum total of our decisions and experiences, but we are all a story in the making. My Julia is not just a messy dresser, but she is this incredibly creative and thoughtful heart that is exploring a great big world, swimming in new ideas, and expressing her thoughts and feelings by using her craft.. She is using her scissors to cut away fear and insecurity in her life. Glue, to hold the pieces together that don't always fit just right. Fairy dust, to wipe away painful memories that sometimes haunt her. Markers, to light up sometimes a very dark world. Hole punches, to be precise about her work. And paper, well it's her stage. I am the least "crafty" person you know, but the more I am allowed to peer into my precious daughter's world, the more I am learning to let her heart fly in that completely "perfect" room of hers and not waste my encounters with her on meaningless speeches. 

*A big shout out to the two people in my life who tend to be more "messy dresser" type people, who talked me off the ledge and assured me Julia would be a high functioning adult someday. They even volunteered to raise her for me! :) *

I had to revert to my Lamaze breathing, she had asked me the same five questions in five different ways in under five minutes, and by the end of the conversation we were both crying. All I have had to say to people regarding Katie this year is, "She is in the fifth grade!" I get sympathetic nods from people, pats on the back, hugs, and "hang in theres" from complete strangers. Every girl who has been through the fifth grade, and every set of parents who has seen a girl through the fifth grade, knows the purgatory we are in. The one and only time I told my mother I hated her was when I was in the fifth grade. She immediately broke down and started crying, and for the first time I saw my mom as a human being. 

If I could wrap Katie in bubble wrap for the next 3 years and just hold her in my lap, I would. Katie and I are so similar that we often clash-boom-bang. I am harder on Katie than I am on the other kids. I know that about myself and I am striving to make changes in that area.

Katie's perfect bedroom and perfect dresser are her craft...She is trying to wade her way through these intense emotions and hormones, and having a place for everything settles her nerves. Having a plan for everything, with back up plans that have back up plans, keep her grounded and calm. She has lists, and journals, and more lists, and diaries, and books, and notebooks, and planners, and more lists. And all those things are clues into her precious soul. Her organized piles and her bed made with precision, allows the world to make more sense in her head.  But Katie is not the sum total of her tidy dresser, she is this incredibly stunning story that is being written chapter by chapter. The more I am allowed to peer into my precious daughter's world, the more I am learning to let her heart fly in that completely perfect room of hers and not waste my encounters with her on critiques. 

*A big shout out to the many people in my life who tend to be "tidy dresser" people that have talked me off the ledge and assured me I will survive her lists!* 

I know that without a doubt, while God stood in the baby manufacturing plant, He giggled when He assigned me these two polar opposite sisters. Oh ya'll! I could just buckle at the knees when I think about the way I feel about these girls. They are my deepest pride and most abundant source of joy. When people tell you that kids are the ones that actually raise their parents, nothing could be more spot on.

So here is to all the different types of dresser people in this world! 

You are not the sum total of your dresser presentation, you are a story in the making. 

LIVE ON!

~Sara