The Magic Number

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She was born on July 8 of 2005 and she has been a little bit of a spit fire, each of her approximately 2,923 days of life. She’s fire, she’s ice, she’s sweet, but temperamental, she’s a whole lot like her mama, but she’s a whole lot like her daddy too.

Her name is Piper and she is a life changer.

I often tell people not to pray for patience. “What happens when you do?” Well, when I did, I got Piper… and brand new next door neighbors. At the same time. Oh, did the Lord ever know that these two events colliding would teach me patience. It’s a bit of a necessity.

When Piper was 5 months old, she learned to pull up on things. She also learned that if she laid on top of the 7 month old baby I was watching, he would cry. I would pull her off and redirect her, but she would go right back to it. It was a never ending, exhausting, fun for her, but not for me game. I remember thinking “When she can crawl, this will get better. Just another month or so”. Who was I kidding?

Since then, I have had many “When she is….” moments. When she is 5 and in school, she will learn self control. When she is 7, she will calm down. When she is 8, she will stop saying things that shock us.

They were the numbers  that I had decided were the “magic” numbers. They were the age she would reach when she would magically stop whatever it was that she was doing.

Except those magic numbers came and went, and the behaviors stayed.

There are so many things I admire about her, that frustrate me. I secretly love that she will say anything that is on her mind and not so secretly wish that I could say everything that’s on mine. I like that she will defend herself, she’s not taking crap from anyone! She has all these great traits that will make her a great adult, but she doesn’t have the maturity or the head knowledge to temper those traits, which is where my and other people’s frustration enters the picture.

There is nothing magic about numbers. She is not going to reach a magic age and magically turn into the child of my dreams. She is going to push buttons and test people every. single. day. That’s just who she is. I am going to have bad days and I am going to feel like I have failed somewhere along the line. I am going to lose my patience and possibly my mind, but I think, possibly, that God is using HER to shape ME into the person he wants me to be.

Maybe I will get it when I am 39. Maybe that’s MY magic number.

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