May the Force be with Someone else!

There is a commercial playing on TV showing different mom's vowing to spend more time with their kids. The strategy is to begin using paper plates as a way to save time doing dishes. Well, that's the surface message John Q public will hear but the Moms hear something different. This commercial speaks to the driving almost subconscious force that pulls every mom every day. I call it the Maintenance Force. Schedule, plan, order, tidy, maintain. I won't debate the nature vrs nurture sides of this "force" but simply state that it's present in most moms across the globe.

And thus I find myself compelled by this force daily. Which is in complete cosmic opposite of Grace's compelling force. I call it the "la, la" force, no schedule, make big messes, and do whatever whenever. I must also add that "la, la" force compels it's subjects towards complete impracticality.

It will come as no surprise that Grace and I spend a lot of time trying to get the other person to cross sides. Sometimes I win. Sometimes Grace wins. Yesterday Grace wanted me to go outside with her and play with the garden hose. It was hot and I had a billion million things to do on top of the billion jillion things I didn't get done the day before. However the Schedule particle of Maintenance Force kicked in as it was important to "schedule" some playtime in for Grace's growth and development. Grace ran inside and got on her bathing suit. I did insist that she take off the ballet skirt that she had placed over the bathing suit.

I slowly walked outside and definitely felt six months pregnant in the heat. Grace grabbed the hose and squirted the big oak tree with delight. I sat on the prickly grass content to watch but that wasn't enough for Grace. "Play with me, Mommy!" she said as she handed me the hose. I turned the spray nozzle to mist . Grace stood downwind and laughed as the gentle mist came her way. I then turned the nozzle to jet and had Grace jump over the surging water stream. Each time I raised the nozzle a little higher to see how high she could jump. This was fun! Next we tried to sneak up on Bandit and squirt him but he wanted nothing to do with it. So Grace decided to hose down our cars. Next we discovered that if we put the nozzle on mist and held it really close to our hands long streams of water would fall off our fingers. We called it "ghost hands'. Grace quickly put her towel over her head and made wailing noises. She jumped into my lap and said "Woooo, I'm going to eat you for dinner!"

Grace grabbed the hose and was about to squirt a fat, unsuspecting squirrel when she spotted a butterfly. She stopped and slowly put down the hose. "Don't squirt it Mommy." was the only direction she gave. It has been her goal to catch a real butterfly on her own. With as much stealth as her little 3 year old body would allow Grace approached the butterfly. I noticed how tall she was getting and how one little, white butt cheek had escaped her bathing suit. She was so close and the butterfly was still perched on the blade of grass. Her hands reached out, water running down her arm and dripping off her fingers. I held my breath as little fingers were just about to brush the wings when suddenly the butterfly sensed it's danger and flitted over towards the oak tree. With nimbleness to match the butterfly Grace followed.

I watched humbled and amazed.