I’ve been frustrated when in my closet lately. Yes, mostly it’s because of my most recent pregnancy, and many of my clothes not fitting. Or the ones that do are out of style (have I been pregnant for THAT long?), or they have stains on them (can you say spit-up? Or paint? Or juice? Or just about anything with any staining power?). But no matter – in a pinch, I always have a plain old scrubby T-shirt to fall back on, right?

No. I don’t. Not anymore.

For all my life, T-Shirts have been plentiful. They come in and out of my life with ease, and my closet [usually] overfloweth. I had so many T-Shirts growing up, that my mom was able to sneak my favorite ones out of my closet after a while without me even noticing. She saved them all and made me a T-Shirt quilt for graduation. And it’s a HUGE quilt.

But lately, I’ve started to feel like I was running short. The ones I have are all starting to look ratty, with paint spatters or holes, and I’m not getting any replacements. Weird. But it dawned on me that all my life I have been… well… involved. Involved in theater, sports, girl scouts, clubs, leadership, student government, charity walks… you name it. Generally, each activity included a new T-Shirt as a representation of involvement. I never really gave it much thought, because it’s just what I did, and it was all easily available to me throughout my (too many) years in school. I mean, my Master’s degree is pretty much just a continuation of the “involvement addiction”. I majored in “extracurricular activities”. (For more information on Student Development Administration and what the heck it is, visit Seattle University.)

So T-Shirts have always flowed into my life, with new ones constantly replacing the old worn-out ones. I never had to worry about having plenty to use for whatever means I wanted. When I realized what was causing the shortage, I became a little despondent. What happened to the “me” that was involved? I enjoyed that person. And if I wasn’t involved and getting T-Shirts to represent it, how was I going to make a T-Shirt quilt as a symbol of my next 20 years? I had a small mourning period.

But that lasted about 5 minutes, until Mylie came knocking on the closet door calling “Mom, hey, look!” I don’t remember what she wanted me to look at, but I remember what I saw. I saw my T-Shirt, personified. I won’t have a T-Shirt quilt to represent my next 20 years. But that’s because it’s not about me, anymore. And I’m good with that. My symbol, and the thing that’s going to be my lasting impression on this world looks like this:

And that’s worth more than any old quilt.

My beautiful beautiful children… not only did Mylie sleep in until 8 today, so did Nolan! And yes, folks, that means that not only did he pull an 8 hour stretch last night, but Mylie didn’t even ruin it by waking up at 6:30 or coming in our room in the middle of the night. WOW! I cannot tell you what that kind of sleep does to a person. I was up, dressed, showered and had the bed made before either of them woke up! And to celebrate, I even shaved my legs, which is the first time in…. okay, maybe that’s too much information for cyberspace. Boy, does that get a girl’s morning off to a better start!

After we got home from playgroup today, Mylie wanted to go outside for awhile to make the most of the last few drops of sunshine before winter comes back for another few weeks. I had to feed Nolan and then make lunch, so I told her I wouldn’t be able to come with her. She was fine with that, and trekked out on her own. As I sat on the couch with Nolan, I watched her go to the swing set. Until now, she has mostly shied away from the big-kid swings, opting for the easier to manage baby swing. But today, she decided to give them a try. I watched as she struggled and struggled to hoist herself up on the slippery surface. She finally made it, only to slip off again. She got up and tried some more. This went on for a few minutes, until I happened to glance down at Nolan, and looked up to see her lying flat on her back, having taken a real spill off the swing. She started to cry, while looking back toward the back door, but quickly realized this was pretty pointless, and turned back to the task at hand – swinging. At this point, I’m thinking to myself, “Just swing on your tummy like all little kids do,” but she kept trying to climb up. Finally, she made it solidly on to the swing. And it moved back and forth for about 20 seconds, after which her momentum died. Since she doesn’t know how to “pump” she just sat there. My heart ached for her, for all her hard work that was to no avail. But then she kicked her legs a bit, which caused the swing to move. And a smile of pride washed over her face. And then she jumped down and moved on attempt the see-saw by herself.

And as I watched her, I became overwhelmed with awe. She kept trying far past when I would have given up and taken the easy road. And even after she thought she’d achieved success, she hit another stumbling block. But she took it in stride, and found joy in what she could in the situation. And then she moved on to try something new, without dwelling on the failures of yesterday. What a lesson for me!