(Photo Credit: db Photography | Demi-Brooke via Compfight cc)
The theme song from the new Disney Princess movie has been on replay throughout the depths of my mind for months, ever since I first saw it in theatres back in December. And that’s not just because it’s a catchy tune, or someone in my family bursts into the song a couple (or a hundred) times a day.
It’s because it’s a theme that I’ve been trying to learn and sing as a part of my life as a mom. From the time I took home Let. It. Go.: How to Stop Running the Show and Start Walking in Faith (by Karen Ehman) in the fall of 2012, and finally started actually reading it in the spring of 2014 (eh hem, as in, now :D), – thinking I wasn’t a controlling person, that’s not the book for me – and having my mind totally and completely changed (not to mention my heart whipped into shape very quickly) by the harsh reality that I.am.a.control.freak. (- I HIGHLY recommend this book for ANY mom who thinks they do NOT have a control problem :D)
The mantra, theme song, desire of my life is to be calm, cool, collected. But that’s not always possible. I live in a world of constant mess, disorder, chaos, confusion and delay (thank you Sir Topham Hat!). It’s not very often things go according to the plan, schedule or routine. Normal? What’s that?
But in a world of stress-induced health problems, disappearing in-real-life personal relationships, comparison, greed, jealousy and marriages melting down – I want nothing more than to simply let it go!
When my rings will always be dirty, nail polish chipped, coffee on reheat and I feel like my life is on repeat.
When I fall asleep reading, the laundry pile (clean and dirty) is breeding, my need for a shower is pleading.
Let it go.
My hips will never be the same. My body given as a sacrifice to bring new life into this world.
Let it go.
My jeans are covered in playdoh and squash. Our master bath is always the last one cleaned (if we ever get to it). The floor is sticky and gathering dirt from someone’s spilled milk.
Let it go.
The momma days are hard. They are why sleeping in to 7 am is a luxury; why date nights, showers, nap times and chocolate in the bathroom are sacred.
These are seed planting, soil watering, life imparting, delicious days when a small ray of sunshine – in a smile, a moment of understanding, an act of kindness, a profession of faith – is enough hope to carry you through.
Whether dinner is late or ruined, pancakes (again) or a family favourite, served on fine china or chipped plates, carries little weight compared to the love with which it was made.
I will not clean up every time someone comes over if it means the mommy-monster comes out.
I will light candles and set a nice table once in a while, even with all the chaos in the background.
I will put aside my agenda and to-do list to enter ponyland or build the next greatest land-rover-slash-helicopter out of Lego.
I will let it go, and let love.