Different

I admit that lately I've been feeling like I've been lacking in the Mommy Mo-Jo department. I've been working a lot again and things have felt "off" around here. And when things feel "off" I tend to go off the deep end -- over-analyzing all that went wrong, is going wrong, and may go wrong in the future -- when really I probably just need a good night's sleep.

But last night was a good night. A night that told me everything is okay and maybe, just maybe, I can be good at this Mommy thing after all.

I have said before that my Emma is a complicated child. She is passionate and expressive in many ways, but when it comes to the deep-down feelings, she tends to tuck them away. But as with all of us, I know those emotions will find their way out one way or another, so I do my best to pay attention.

I could tell something had been bothering her all week and after a little probing about why she didn't want me to pack a rice milk box in her lunch, she revealed that she is embarrassed about her food allergies. Actually, she told me that she doesn't understand why God made her with allergies.

Now, we've already had the talk about Brooklyn and why God made her the way He did (I may or may not write about that some day), but this wasn't about Brooklyn. And, really, I loved that. As much as my mind wanted to go there, this was about Emma and only Emma. It was about her feelings about being different, which are just as important, just as real, and just as valid as the ones Brooklyn will have some day.

I know this seems obvious--and it is--but I have been worried lately that Brooklyn's special needs have been taking priority over the girls. So it was just really, really nice to focus on Emma's feelings. To know that I could still see them lurking beneath the surface and, more importantly, help her express them.

So last night, at her bedside, we had a nice discussion about how God makes us all different and unique, and how we should try our best to be proud of those differences. And if for some reason we don't like or understand some of the decisions He makes, we have to choose to trust Him and focus on our blessings. We can either choose to sit in the corner and be sad about our allergies -- which won't change a darn thing -- or we can choose to be happy and be thankful that we have lots of other foods we can enjoy.

She understood, cried, asked a few questions, and we ended it all with a few hugs. I honestly thought we had a Full House moment -- I swear there was music playing the background -- and then I asked her, "Do you feel better?"

Her response?

"Not really."

Okay then.

But somehow I think she did feel better. And if she didn't, I know she at least learned something. I know I did.

I can do this.

I may say the wrong things most of the time and at the wrong volume -- and God knows I will certainly do my share of messing up in the future -- but I am learning to see her heart. To ask the right questions. To listen.

I can do this.