I believe I’ve mentioned the fact that I am a “twiddler, a dreamer, a silly heart.” Sigh. This is an identity I’ve found myself defending my entire adult life. Actually, the disdain for dreamers begins around the age of 12 or so. You’d think I’d be quite comfortable with the idea that some of us…in our hearts and imaginations…just never fully grow up. We are the Peter Pans of the world. We do indeed see things through rose-colored glasses. Okay, the glasses may not be rose-colored, but they are certainly tainted a different shade of reality. We see the world as it can be, as we hope it is rather than as it really is. We miss some obvious dips and rises in the landscape. But oh the splendor of our view!
All of this to say…how in the world will this dreamy momma handle the REALITY of motherhood? Probably the way I always handle reality…with a sprinkling of pixie dust. It will be interesting, to say the least. As my dear sister Shea has reminded me, “Jan, God planned this baby for YOU and Phil. God picked the two of you to be this child’s parents. God knows what He is doing.” Thus, this baby will come fully equipped (please oh please, Lord) to handle the adventure of being raised by a woman who sees adventure and wonder where other women see danger and risk. Please Lord, help this child survive me!