A love story

Today, being Valentine's Day, I have been reflecting a lot about love. This isn't, however, a love story about Dn. John and myself (although I do love him a lot). The love I've been thinking about mostly today is a mother-daughter kind of love. Specifically, a Mommy and Marina love.

Marina is a hard kid sometimes. She is feisty, fearless, adventuresome, and messy (so help me, she's messy...). I don't always relate well to these qualities. The feistiness, maybe...but in a different way. In any case, I've been having a hard time wrapping my brain around the complexities of being her Mom lately. I'm not sure what makes her tick, and I definitely don't know how to get her to do what I think she should be doing.

And therein lies the problem. Who says I'm right about what she should be doing? I had an epiphany during Vespers a few weeks ago. No two ways about it, it was a Holy Spirit-inspired moment. I can't even articulate it, really. Just a knowledge that I'm going about being Marina's Mom all the wrong way. (I would like to note that I had to interrupt this post for fifteen minutes to clean up the massive mess she made with watercolors all over the kitchen table, windowsill, wall, floor, chairs, and bathroom).

As hard as it is for me to swallow the messes, the fearlessness, and her adventuresome spirit, squashing it probably isn't the answer. So, I am embarking on a new mothering journey...shouting less (at least attempting to), and trying to gear our lives in a more "Marina-friendly" way. More activities, more exercise, more projects. Less cooped-up. Less obsessively structured. Etc, etc, etc.

And at the same time, somehow, I have to manage to train her and raise her in a way that keeps her spirit and joy intact, but somehow harnesses her boundless energy and gives her focus.

My answer? I only have one. Pray pray pray pray pray pray pray pray pray. And then pray some more.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

I love you, Marina Joy.