Confessions of a Control Freak

Easter is fast approaching.

In case you didn't know.

You're welcome.

Last Friday was the last day of a two week Spring Break for my girlies. And the day before that we had driven five and a half hours to Kansas for my husband's grandmother's funeral. We also drove the same five and a half hours home that same day. And the girls were so good all day long (our journey began at 3:30 Thursday morning - which many would still consider Wednesday night...)

So, to celebrate the last day of break, and to give my girls a sweet pat on the back, I let them dictate the day's agenda.

• Spa Day (which means I paint their fingers and toes and put glitter polish on top)

• Macaroni and Cheese for lunch (Kraft - not the homemade kind - which is shocking to me)

• Decorate the House for Easter ("it's coming, Mom, whether you're ready or not" - when did they start talking like me???)

This is my first Easter working at the church. Which means, with Easter not only comes my favorite service of the year, but the need to staff extravagantly to ensure that we have enough bodies to help all of the children who walk through our doors know who Jesus is and how much he loves them, because this might be the one and only time...but hoping that it's the first time of many to come. So, ya know, no pressure.

And so the days passed and I hadn't even put out the Easter wreath.

And the girls noticed.

And they were ready to take matters into their own hands.

So, I made the lunch. Painted the nails. Did some work (I know...I had to...). And pulled out the bins of Easter decorations from the basement.

And then it dawned on me. Why shouldn't two little girls be in charge of the actual decorating this year? I mean, they are 9 and 7. They have watched me do it for many years, and helped out when I said, "Can you please put this item in this very particular location? And don't worry, I'll fix it when you're not looking."

True Confessions:
I don't consider myself a control freak. But, I will admit. There are certain things that I want done a certain way. A lot of things I can overlook. And some things I cannot. Seasonal decorating appears to be one of those things that I have determined to be important enough to take pictures every year so I can replicate down to the centimeter where to delicately place each and every decoration in its exact location. Please leave your judgements to yourself thankyouverymuch.

But my heart was just not feeling it this year. And the four, big, blue and green, excited eyes of two little redheads caught me in a moment of weakness, and I gave up all control.

One would have thought Christmas came early!

They were thrilled!

The next thing I knew, the family room was full of bags, paper, and about 7492 plastic Easter eggs.

And my ears were full of the sounds of, "Oops," "Sorry," "Oh, I didn't see that there," and "Whoa, that almost broke."

That's when I pulled rank and had a "Come to Jesus Meeting" regarding the task at hand. I used phrases like, "These are my decorations," and "You need to be very careful," and "This is not a race," and "Please slow down and pay attention to where you are and what is around you."

To say that the process was complete and utter chaos would be an understatement indeed. The room was so full of packing materials, I couldn't even find the actual decorations.

And then, everything stopped. It just stopped. When I looked up to investigate, I realized they were reading. Normally this would cause my mama heart to swell...but, come on...let's finish one thing and then enjoy. But they read EVERY.SINGLE.EASTER.BOOK.WE.OWN. Even the baby books. EVERY.SINGLE.ONE.

What is happening? Thankfully at just that moment, my watch reminded me to breathe.

Then the madness began again. Okay - I might have said something...and my tummy started to hurt...

It was interesting though. They kept bringing me baskets full of the eggs that don't actually go in that basket, asking me where to put it. I swallowed hard each time and said, "I don't know. Where do you think it would look nice?" And then it ended up in a random spot. And the girl who placed it there would step back, admiring her work and say, "That is good. I love it!" And immediately she would look at me, longing for my approval, and for me to join in her enthusiastic pleasure.

So I did. "Oh, I like how you put three different kinds of eggs in that basket full of two different kinds of grass. It looks nice like that!" And, "Wow! I like how you spread the eggs all across the desk. I don't think I've ever seen it like that before!"

And they beamed with pure delight!

My house feels cluttered and not even close to how I like Easter to look.

But my girls had so much fun. They couldn't wait for their daddy to come home and show him all they had done to make our house ready for Easter. And he too admired their creative genius. And their faces were overflowing with joy.

My Takeaway:

• My name is Lisa and I like to control holiday decorating.
• My girls matter more than the perfection of holiday decor.
• My girls look to me for approval.
• How I respond and interact matters.
• I can relinquish control over things that don't matter.
• Christmas decorations still matter...

The next morning I noticed the girls wandering slowly through the house checking to see if everything was as they had left it. And it was. I made myself leave it. Even the trail of eggs on the desk. They were quite pleased with themselves. (Okay. I'll admit. I did take the plastic egg out of my trash basket in my office. I couldn't leave that one, because, eww...)

It is our nature to seek approval from others. I continue to struggle with this very issue. And although I do not want my girls constantly seeking my approval, I also want them to know that I am proud of them, even when they do things differently than me - with a big ole' mess at the beginning and a process that I would not have chosen. Our house is still decorated for Easter, and that was the desired outcome. So, mission complete.

Do you let your kids take over every now and then?
Do you let them get distracted as they move through their task?
Do you hover and change things around when they are not looking?
Do you savor those moments when you gave them space to create?

These are things I am still learning to do. And it is not too late. There is still time to let my little girls be little girls. The process is how they learn. It's how I'm sure I learned. First I watched. Then I helped. And then I took over. Godspeed, mamas!