I've been thinking about the things in life that we jump into with both feet, never imagining how difficult they will be.
(Take note: God has a sense of humor.)
You know, I'm talking about the life transitions that, if we knew how dang hard they were, the world would be MUCH less populated.
I just finished reading Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert, which was interesting and profound and fascinating and informative. In the book, she mentions telling a friend how scared and apprehensive she was to get married. And she asked her friend if that was normal. Her friend replied, with much wisdom, "It's only normal for people who actually think about what they are getting into."
If we knew how much work and effort and sweat and tears a good marriage takes, how many of us would still jump into the commitment?
Not as many, that I know for sure.
(Side note: I totally would. I am blessed.)
And what about puppies? If we really knew how much poop and barf and farts these cuddly little creatures would bring into our lives, would we still go through with it? Would we still invest the time and money and energy for a family companion?
(Um, let me think about that one.... no.)
And then there's parenting. The true test of backbone strength.
How many of us became pregnant thinking we would glow inexplicably for 9 months and have the excuse to eat as much chocolate as we wanted and of course only gain 25 pounds...? Perhaps we thought we'd be soaking our feet while indulging our every craving while being brought breakfast in bed.
Pffffffft. Cue: Nausea & swollen feet & back pain & insomnia & bladder infections & toothaches & stretch marks.
And the eventual baby that comes and ends this torture? (you are picking up on my sortof sarcasm, right?)
It goes without saying that NO ONE is prepared for this.
And yet, the mystery of parenting, is that it is so beautiful and so fulfilling that, after doing it once, most people choose to go through it again. & again. & even again.
The exhaustion. The frustration. The sleepless nights and piles of diapers. The temper tantrums.
The coos and giggles and wet kisses and extreme, indescribable happiness.
The sacrifice of putting another's life first. The denial of self.
It smacks you in the face, doesn't it?
But the purpose it brings is truly breathtaking when you stop to weigh it in all its intricate parts.
With Solo-boy we jumped in with both feet, arms extended in the air, mouths open, eyes closed.
This time? We tremble at the water's edge, arms grasping desperately at each other, jaws clenched, eyes alert.
Because we know how difficult it will be. ::Parents with multiple children cackling uncontrollably::
Not at all.
But, I suppose, that is the beauty of it all, isn't it?
(No, I am not pregnant. At least I don't think so.)
(This post is just some ramblings of my reflections, thanks for bearing with me.)