My little gift

I had a hard start to my week. I was feeling sad and discouraged. Nothing serious, but just kind of blue. And tired. Oh so tired.

On Thursday morning, my otherwise incredibly cheerful son threw a temper tantrum at breakfast. He hadn't gone to sleep until pushing 9:00 the night before, and woke up just after 6:30 that morning. More teeth were being cut, less interest in being, well, himself.

I didn't know what to do. So I went outside with him. We walked and walked and walked, which is an odd thing for us because our neighbourhood is actually sort of ugly. It's rather industrial looking, with the sights and sounds being the bridge overhead, a U-Haul drop-off across the street, and a few car dealerships. Oh yes, and a short drive from a prison.

{In case you're wondering, we chose to live here. The rent's good. And our actual block is lovely.}

We managed to find some grassy areas to walk around in, and I had some "mama thinking time" while he stared at dandelions.

I came home feeling refreshed, and my husband said, "Oh good news. Remember that contest you entered?"

I nodded. "You won first prize."

Gulp.

First prize for said contest is a makeover at a very high-end salon and spa in the city, worth, get this... $500. Yes, five hundred dollars! I also won a basket of natural skincare products and a gift certificate to our favourite baby store in Halifax!

Imagine how this brightened my day!

Why I am so particularly happy by this, though, is that this was a writing contest. I submitted a short piece on how moms are beautiful, and they chose what I wrote.

In my mania of mothering, I have found myself countless time comparing myself to other moms: why can't I be as tidy as she is? Why can't I be as creative? Organized? Slim? Good of a cook? Well-read?

I spent so much time being frustrated by my own apparent lack of that special something that I sort of forgot that I actually am good at something: writing.

Did I tell you I have a few articles published? I have several that have appeared in The Christian Courier and now, I have one that I just submitted for a June issue of a different magazine, a Catholic one this time.

The editor of this Catholic magazine just sent me an email, and in it, he praised my writing. He even rather insistently asked me to submit again when I have time. I felt so completely buoyed. Still do, actually.

I'm not telling you this to brag, but to say that this has been a lesson for me; I have to stop comparing myself to other people, and stop feeling like I have been shortchanged because I can't, say, make amazing fondant art like a certain sister of mine. I'm different from other mothers. Messier, less disciplined, still not licensed to drive. But, I can write and even get paid to do so sometimes (or get my my hair and a mani/pedi for it!), I can sew a little bit, I can cook a tolerable meal or two, and I make my husband and son very happy.

God made me this way. He is served by my humble little efforts.

"There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit.
There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord.
There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men." 1 Corinthians 12:4-6