Yeah, well happy graduation to you dear little kindergartner.

My little boy graduated from kindergarten today.

It was a rough day. And not in a "oh-my-goodness-my-sweet-little-boy-is-growing-up" kind of way.

It was a rough day because I was beaming with joy as my first-born walked across the stage and waved to me, and then 10 minutes later when I met him back at his classroom for the little celebration he looked disappointed as I walked up.

"Where are my balloons?" he says with furrowed little eye brows.

"Wait.... what? Oh. Balloons? Well, honey I didn't know I was supposed to bring you balloons."

"Well you were supposed to. Look... everyone else? They have balloons."

And everyone else? They did have balloons. And bouquets of flowers. I told him I had planned to bring him for ice cream afterwards. That was the special thing I had for him.

"But show me your book you made!" I said. He flipped through a couple pages, showing me the binder containing the year's highlights and some sweet photos of him doing different activities. Then he was over it. I took a few photos of him with his friends (and their balloons in their hands or balancing on their heads since their balloon bouquets were so grand that they were weighted with shiny papered weights.)

Then Max goes over to his teacher and asks if he can play with one of the class iPads. "Sure" she says. A few other kids were playing on them since their parents weren't there and they were getting some free playtime. Well I wasn't going to sit there and watch Max play on an iPad so I said no. He was so mad at me. He wilted at that point. And it was time to go.

All the way home he wept and yelled and told me he didn't want ice cream. So I drove right past Creamy Cone, with out saying a word. "WAIT! WHAT?! WE AREN'T GETTING ICE CREAM?!!?"

"Nope. You told me you didn't want ice cream. I told you that you needed to have a happy heart and good attitude before we get ice cream."

Well his heart and attitude changed and I agreed to give him a second chance by going to our local coffee shop for ice cream. We get there and all of a sudden he is whining that he wants a cupcake instead. "Ice cream is what I offered. It's that or nothing."

He got his ice cream cone, and with hunched shoulders he followed me out the door. No "thanks." No nothing. I turned around and said "when we get home, I need you to go up to your room. You have been mean and ungrateful for everything that I have done for you today and there are consequences for treating your mom this way."

When we got out to the car, he was poking at his ice cream, and the whole scoop plopped on the ground. He looked at me with these cold eyes and walked right past me.

When we got home, I swung open the van door to let him out, and the cone was sitting there on the floor of my van. He gently kicked it out of the door, jumped out and landed on it. On purpose.

 I was so mad.

So hurt.

For the first time, I felt like my kid had deliberately hurt me. 

It was a significant moment. 

I don't usually take it personal when my kids do stuff like this. I let them know that it was mean/rude/hurtful/inconsiderate/etc. But I can shrug it off and not allow it to actually hurt my feelings. This time, it was different though. 

And then I feel like it was another one of those moments where God gives me a glimpse of what it's like for Him. 

There is some significant milestone in our life: 

You got your dream job. 

You finally got your PhD. 

You fell in love. 

You finally gotten pregnant. 

You buy your first house.

You open up your own restaurant. 

You got married. 

[insert significant milestone that is supposed to be amazing and joyful here] 

Life is grand in that moment. But then it isn't what we expected:
What? My boss is actually not as great as I thought?
My boyfriend wants to wait until after law school to get married?
No one is hiring in my field?
I waited all this time to get pregnant, and now I have to be on bed rest?
The closing date is postponed?!
The inspector didn't pass it again?
No one told me that his breath starts to stink after we get married!
[insert anticlimactic disappointing factor here]

And so what is our reaction? Probably similar to my five year old's in one way or another. Are you kidding me? Seriously? But look at how it worked out for everyone else! Why is it sucky for me?! Where are you God? I thought you loved me I thought you cared?! 

When things don't go my way, many times I have the response of: Oh, well what else is new. My life has always been hard, so what's one more thing. Whoa is me. And I am mad. And I feel cheated. And I wonder why everyone else has an easier time, or nicer kids, or a cleaner house, or a more understanding husband, or a smaller waist or a nicer car or more money or nicer things or is way more spiritual than me... [insert more disappointing factors here.]

Whoa is me.

I'm so grateful for a God that loves me even when I am a whiny bratty daughter. He loves me and knows what is best, and he doesn't turn me away when I doubt his perfect provision and care. He draws me in, draws me closer. He helps me to learn a thing or two in the process, and his mercies are new every morning.

I want to be that kind of parent. That when Max is testing me, that I can lovingly show him that my intentions are pure. That I know what is best, and I know the perfect way to tend to his heart and to his needs.

My mom watched the kids while I was at the graduation. On her way over she stopped at Starbucks and got Max a cake pop to enjoy in celebration of his special day.

Do you think I let him have it?

Heck no I did not. I ate it. And enjoyed every bite while Max cleaned the porch.

And no I did not rub it in by eating it in front of him, even though I sorta wanted too... :)

Well, instead of running from this big crazy [and sometimes scary] parenting thing, I continue to dive in and learn new things.

Tonight I get to meet with a new group of moms. We will be reading (and eating cake I hope) and doing a study on this book:

[source]

I also started a little book club with a couple of my dear friends. We feel super cool because we have never been a part of a real book club before. This is what we are reading:

[source]

What do you do to maintain your parenting game? Books? Chocolate? Wine? The Word? Zumba? Coconut milk ice cream? Pintrest? I hear those all do just fine at keeping your game tight.  (I am in no way sporty, so I am not sure my sporty parenting lingo is making any sense here... sorry.)

As my girl Nicki reminds me on a regulare basis.... Just breathe.

Peace.