Eva’s Testimony

It has been my prayer that the Lord would receive glory from the story He is writing in my life. I am so overwhelmed by His love toward us that it is truly a humbling experience to tell you now what He has done!

Growing up I always thought I would get married and have kids all at the same time… that’s how everyone did it right!? My husband and I had been married for three and a half years before we thought about trying. Just as soon as we talked about it a missed period and positive test told us we were expecting our first! It was a magical moment and we were thrilled! Life just seemed to be falling into place according to my plan, until…

We started to pray with our firstborn (then 2 1/2) that the Lord would bless us with another child. We also were praying for His will and timing…
I have never waited for something so long in my life. It has been a journey full of tears, hurts, deepening of my faith and coming to the point of complete surrender to the Lord. My life is His and He can do with it whatever he wills. There is a joy and freedom in this like no other.
My life is His.
His story has included some dark and cloudy moments though. After three years of unexplained infertility and crying out to the Lord we were elated when those two lines appeared on a positive pregnancy test!! Shocked and amazed we fell to our knees in worship that God would choose this for us! However, two short weeks later we found that this precious gift was not ours to keep. In those two weeks I let my heart dream all of the big dreams that I had been holding back for three years. Though my heart was broken to pieces the Lord was ever present with us through it all. He comforted us in ways I never knew possible and we experienced His peace in new ways that surpassed our understanding.
My heart was unsure how to move forward from this experience. I knew I wanted to glorify Him with this no matter what and I know He will continue to use this difficult heart-wrenching experience in the years to come. Nothing is wasted with our God.
This is not the end… A couple of short months later a different kind of shock and awe hit us when that pregnancy test was positive again! Oh my. My heart was thrown for a loop. Everything was different now. Am I headed for more heartache? Will I be able to hold this baby in my arms? These and so many other questions immediately flooded in. In all honesty I have to say that I struggled for a week before my heart calmed enough to hear that still small voice say, “I was with you then, I’m with you still.” I’m so thankful for the prayer support He surrounded me with during this time. I leaned into Him again and made the choice to trust. This is His story.
Today I hold a precious beautiful baby boy in my arms as I write this out. My heart was prepared for the Lord to grow our family in other ways and maybe He still will. I had hoped, but was submitted to whatever would happen. Sometimes we are called to wait and sometimes our prayers are not answered the way we had hoped they would be, but God is sovereign over it all. My prayer is that through my experience God would receive glory and that you, my sweet sisters in Christ, would be encouraged and take heart. Our Lord may not always give us what we want, but we can be assured that he is always working for the good of our souls.
–Eva

 Thanks so much for sharing your testimony Eva! We celebrate the life of your precious baby boy and all that God has done in you and through you on this journey!

If you would like to share your testimony of how God has healed your womb, or how He has healed, or is healing your soul (whether or not you have a baby) please email me [email protected] and check out the writer’s guidelines at “Want To Share Your Testimony?” I feature a Testimony each Tuesday, you can also subscribe with your email address, or follow along on my Facebook Page.

Love, Rebekah

Tanya’s Testimony

I’d like to share my testimony to all the ladies out there. Keep on keeping on, and trust in God with all your heart and soul. He knows the plans He has for you.

Two years ago, my husband and I decided we were ready to start a family. Although we were no strangers to infertility, since we have close family on both sides who have struggled with it, we thought we’d be different. We thought for sure, we’d be pregnant within 4 months.

After a year, it became apparent that something was wrong. We went to the doctor. He made some suggestions. We tried again. Nothing happened. Just when we were about to start on our first round of fertility treatment, I found out I was pregnant. I’ll remember that over joyous, exhilarating feeling for the rest of my life.

I was shaking when my husband came home, couldn’t even find the words to tell him.

Then, at about five weeks, my HCG levels dropped quite badly and the doctor confirmed my fears – I was miscarrying.

I remember crying and sleeping for two days straight without the physical experience of it even having started.

It was during this time, when I was feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life, that I turned to God.

I’ve always had an up and down relationship with Him – more or less every time I needed Him I seeked Him out. So, I turned to Him out of fury, anger and resentment.

It felt like He never, ever granted me anything I’d asked for. I remember reading your blog during that time, specifically the bit where you said you prayed to thank God for the reasons you weren’t pregnant. At first I laughed about it, it sounded ridiculous. Then, as resentment and anger turned to sadness and depression, I felt the need, more and more to talk to Him.

He was the only One who truly knew what I was feeling. So I started praying – every day I thanked him for a list of things I was grateful for in my life, each day adding something new to the list.

Soon, the mist of sadness started to lift, and although the desire still burned brightly in my heart, day by day, I felt closer to the Father who had a plan for me, and who’s plan was always better than my own. I prayed, over and over again for His will to be done, not mine.

And for some time, I felt relief. I didn’t react in anger or sadness every time I saw or heard of someone being pregnant. All I felt during that time, was the need for God’s will to play out in my life and for Him to work through me and touch others.

I’ve always been a shy and reserved person, especially regarding my faith – it’s not something I talk about every day. I like writing though – usually for my own entertainment. But somehow I scraped together the courage and started writing again, giving life to the emotions that I carried with me through the whole process. But it felt good sharing, and suddenly I was flooded with stories of women I knew and adored, who went through such similar experiences that it shocked me to know that there were so many, and that they’ve never talked about it to anyone. I believe this was a time of healing for me and all of them.

Then one day, during December, a close family member shared the news that they were expecting. For some reason, this just totally broke me again.

We always talked about raising our children together.

It felt like I was being left behind.

And although it was a very hard time for me, I refused to let it drive a wedge between me and my Father again. I started diligently reading my Bible, seeking comfort in His word. I got myself a book to help guide my prayers, which I felt were all over the place. It helped, tremendously.

I had good days and bad ones, but mostly felt like I was getting it together again, so when my husband suggested we see the doctor again, I was ready. Went through some procedures, got some medication again. I wasn’t feeling hopeful though – because I wasn’t putting my faith in treatments and doctors, I was putting my faith in God’s plan.

“I wasn’t putting my faith in treatments and doctors, I was putting my faith in God’s plan.”

And then, when I least expected it – one day when I was positively having PMS like symptoms and cramps, when I was bored and I was cleaning out my bathroom… I found a stick. I thought, well, why not? And there it was – positively positive. I am now 21 weeks pregnant.

It was only after I found out and started telling everyone, that I realised how many friends, family and acquaintances were praying for me.

I didn’t know they cared enough.

But God listened, because He hears every prayer, and if we ask in His name, He will grant us the desires of our hearts. In HIS perfect timing and according to HIS perfect plan.

–Tanya,  South Africa


Thank you for sharing this Tanya! Wow, tears fill my eyes. And we rejoice with you as you carry this little one in your womb!

If you’re reading this, I don’t want you to brush over the part where Tanya said she (in the midst of her infertility) began to thank God during her inability to concieve. I know it sounds crazy, but thanking God during infertility was something that brought me such release of joy and freedom from the weight I was bearing. If you want to read more about that, you can click here.


If you would like to share your testimony of how God has healed your womb, or how He has healed, or is healing your soul (whether or not you have a baby) please email me at [email protected] and check out the writer’s guidelines at “Want To Share Your Testimony?” I feature a Testimony each Tuesday, you can also subscribe with your email address, or follow along on my Facebook Page.

Love, Rebekah

Kelly’s Testimony: Don’t Get Lost In The Storm

My journey with infertility started over 13 years ago, in April 2003. My cycles were unpredictable. I eventually learned that my body did not ovulate on its own… or so the doctor said.

Over those 13 years, I internalized my emotional roller coaster and I began to eat my emotions.

At my largest, I was 70+ pounds overweight. So, in August of 2015, I began CrossFit. In the beginning, I went to become healthy enough to carry a baby–but at some point along the way, the journey became less about conceiving and more about being happy with who I am. I began to work out more, eat healthier, drink more water and my cycles became more regular only being off by 4 to 7 days, (instead of months and months apart.) But most of all, I began to live for myself and not for the unborn child that had not been conceived yet.

In November 2011, I re-married an amazing man who stood beside me, encouraged me, and made me feel whole. We did some fertility treatment, but January 1, 2016, the monetary and emotional cost, would lead us to make the decision to let go.

I asked God, “Why?” A LOT. I never really understood the “Why?” but always felt or even knew in my spirit that it would happen. I still believed. I still had faith God would provide. But I needed to separate myself from living for someone whose time had not been appointed yet.

My husband and I took down our nursery, gave some things away and attempted to sell the rest; however, no one would buy anything….anything!

In October of 2016, we made the decision to buy a new house and some farm animals on 5 acres! The land had not been cared for in many, many years and there was a lot of work to do. Our life had become busy with work, working out, and caring for our land. The pain of being 32-years-old and seemingly barren had begun to slip away a little.

We began to enjoy the freedom of being able to go and do what we wanted, when we want. “2 a.m. run to Walmart? Sure, why not!” We began to realize that we had the ability to go and do, unlike most of our friends. We began to enjoy each other; after all, life was just going to be the two of us…forever.

Christmas came, I decorated every room in the house, every room had its own tree; it was beautiful! Then New Year’s came and went. We had been a full year of focusing on us, our marriage and building a life for two, plus our “fur babies.” We were content. Life was perfect… or so we thought.

Then there is January 26, 2017 at 5:15 p.m.

My cycle was only 3 days late. No big deal. I am used to that. But, I was having some stomach issues, (also normal for me) and I wanted to take some medication for it but knew it would be unsafe IF I happened to be expecting. I asked my husband, “Please stop and get some pregnancy test. I know it will be negative. I would just feel better taking it before the meds.” He happily obliged, knowing that when it was negative, I would descend into a spiral of darkness for a few days. He would be there to hold me, cry with me and we would pick the pieces back up and move forward together…stronger and closer as a couple.

BUT, this was not the case this time….there was a “+”. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There had NEVER been a “+”. I took the test to him for reassurance. There was definitely a PLUS! I finally understood why no one would buy all the clothes and toys we had collected over the year.

After a journey that lasted 13 years and 8 months, there was a tiny miracle in my womb! God had kept His word…His promise. The promise I had stood on for the last 5 years. The promise I reminded Him of daily. The promise that was posted all over our home: Psalm 113:9 “He settles the childless woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the Lord.”

God has been faithful to us! I have prayed for this child by name since December of 2011. Isaiah William is due to arrive September 28. God has filled the desire of our hearts!

God has seen us through the struggle of infertility, provided the miracle of being able to purchase a home we never thought we could afford, put a tiny miracle in my womb and had us in a safe place on April 29, when a tornado destroyed our home and car.

We can see God through the storms… ALL of them! The lesson we have best learned through it all is: Don’t get lost in the storm. Just like Peter, in Matthew 14, if we take our eyes off God, we begin to become afraid and sink in the situation. Keep your eyes on God, praise Him through the storm and He will see you through it!


Thank you Kelly for sharing this beautiful story of how God has carried you through these storms for 13 years! You give hope to us all as you have trusted in the Lord, and we cheer you on now as you are pregnant and give birth this September! May God deliver your sweet baby boy in His perfect time, and His perfect way. 

If you would like to share your testimony of what God has done (or is doing) in your womb, or in your soul, please email me at [email protected] and check out the writer’s guidelines here at “Want To Share Your Testimony?”

The Beauty Of Right Now

One day there won’t be anymore smudges on my windows. I won’t trip over toys in the hallway. Or in the shower. Everything will be in perfect order.

I know this because when I go visit my parents house, it’s clean. Freshly vacuumed, and furniture polished. Everything is as it should be.

And I think, “Someday, my house will be clean.”

But you know what? In that day, I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss them. Being little.

I will look out my unsmudged windows and cry for the fingerprints that once marked them. For the little girl who once stared out of them and dreamed.

For the baby boy who held me hostage to the couch, because he wanted to nurse 23 hours out of the day, and whose big blue eyes would lock with mine while he did, and nearly take my breath away.

And I will ache for a day…exactly like today. All messy and undone.

Someday I won’t wake to crying in the night. I will have eight hours of glorious, undisturbed sleep, every night. (If I want it.)

But, I won’t want it then. I’ll somehow want this.

I’ll want the nights back when the baby woke me up with his cries, and my daughter crawled in between the safety of our warm bodies to forget her nightmares. And remember her dreams.

Someday I will have time. Time to write. Time to shop. Time to do whatever I want. Too much time. I won’t have a baby boy nursing at my breast, or a toddler trying to hug (and kiss) that baby boy while he is nursing at my breast, because, “He’s so cute, Mom,” she says over and over again. And we won’t be piled on top of each other, into that one spot on the couch. (Because everyone knows when you love someone, you should sit on top of them.)

Someday I will cook dinner in peace. I won’t be tripping over my 4-year-old who steps exactly where I step, right before I step there. And I won’t have a baby boy strapped to my chest while I try to do the dishes and bounce him to sleep at the same time.

Someday…they won’t be strapped to my chest. They’ll just be strapped to my heart. I will wash the dishes and stare out the window, hating how quiet it is. Hating how easy it is. Hating how clean it is.

And all I will have are these memories.

Of us all piled together. Of me not having an inch of personal space. Of not getting a chance to shower, and instead getting showered in spit-up, and high-arcing pee during diaper changes.

And I will miss it. I will miss them–just like this.

I will miss them being little. 

And I don’t know why my daughter pretends she’s a mermaid named Elsa in the bathtub, or why she drenches the floor with her splash-kicks–except that, she’s little. And this is her world right now.

And I don’t know why my baby boy wants me all the time, or why he screams when I put him in his car seat, or why he wakes up the moment anything remotely romantic happens between me and his dad. But he does. And he’s little. And this is our world right now.

And I’m going to miss it.

The other day my husband popped in for lunch. I was not expecting him, and the house was a disaster. Clothes were in heaps in the living room, the kitchen wasn’t tidied. My hair was in a giant messy bun, and I had no make-up on. My son was asleep in my arms (in our usual spot on the couch), and my daughter was laying on the floor looking at her books.

“Hi,” I said, with a smile.

I knew what it probably looked like. I knew it looked like I accomplished nothing. I knew it looked like I didn’t care. And…I was about to apologize to him. I was about to say, “I’m sorry…” For the house. For my hair.

But before the words came out, I noticed something.

Smudges on the windows.

Smudges because she had been standing there hoping he would come. Watching for his car. And it hit me like a ton of bricks: someday we won’t have smudges on the windows.

And in that moment, there was just something about the way her blonde hair fell into her face as she lay on the floor and looked at her books. And there was something about the way my son was laying, so comfortably in my arms, like he had melted into me–and suddenly the words, “I’m sorry,” didn’t seem to make sense any more.

And instead I said, “I have a beautiful, beautiful life.”

And I meant it.

Tears formed in my eyes. Because just for a second, I saw it. It was just a glimpse, but I saw it. The beauty of right now.

Right now.

I have a beautiful, beautiful life. 

And I’m writing this, so I remember.

And I’m writing this, so you remember. And so you don’t forget. Wherever you’re at today. Whatever you accomplished. Or didn’t accomplish. However clean or messy your house is, don’t let Satan steal this one glorious truth from you:

I have a beautiful, beautiful life. 

Right now. 

Today. 

And these days often feel long.

But someday, they will feel short.

So very short, the time that our kids were little.

And we will all long for it back. This time. With them.

It’s like a breeze. Like the wind.

You can’t take a picture of the wind. You can’t keep it. You can’t capture it. And you can’t take it with you.

You can only feel it while it is blowing.

And it’s blowing now. 

So turn towards it, and let it blow. Turn towards it and just…feel it. Let your hair fly and get tangled in it. Because someday, there won’t be any more smudges on the windows. And you’ll long just to feel it again, this wind,

their breath on your skin.

It’s blowing now. 

 


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To The Woman Who Miscarried, Or Never Conceived

spring

To The Woman Who Miscarried, Or Never Conceived,
I’m thinking of you today. I see you every time I look out my window, I can’t help it. There is a daffodil covered in ice. There are tree buds covered in snow. And I’m thinking of you, dear one.

Last weekend, it was warm and breezy. All the earth was coming to life. It was the celebration of resurrection, and life, it was Spring. At last. We finally started opening the windows, and breathing easier. And letting the sun hit our naked skin, hidden under sweaters and coats all winter.

We started to thaw. And feel warm again. And let laughter in.
And we cheered when we saw the daffodils push through the dirt. And my heart lept when I saw the trees finally budding through my kitchen window. For all the life bursting forth.

And one week later (that is today) it snowed.

The winds changed. The north winds blew, and the cold fronts came back unexpectedly.

And the windows slammed shut. And the young daffodils are covered with ice, and fallen low to the ground. And when I see them, I cry for you.

For the fragile beauty, fighting to survive the frost.

I cry for the life in you, that wants to survive. And the way you bend low, like the daffodil, covered with ice.

I see you in these budding trees, that were just coming alive–and are now covered with snow.

I want to tell you something:
I know you feel like this winter will never end.
That there will only ever be death, and cold.
And any life will always be choked out by unexpected northern winds.

But that’s not true.

Today is the day your Faith, becomes bigger than your feelings.

Spring will come.

However long it might take.

The frost is powerful–but it is not the most powerful thing.

Life is powerful.

Life is more powerful than death.

And Jesus is Life–and He is powerful. And I am praying He comes to life in you today. Because even when Jesus was killed–He rose from the dead.

And “The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead, is living in you. And will also give life to your mortal bodies.” Romans 8:11

The death-defying power of the Spirit of God–lives in you.
I know what you might be thinking: Where was that power when I miscarried?

Where was the power when I tried to conceive?

Dear one, I don’t understand it. But it wasn’t your fault.

God is the giver of life. And He will give you life in Him.
I am praying that He raises you back to life today. That though you be like that fallen daffodil in the ice–that day will come and is coming that the sun will warm you again, and raise you up, and bring you to life.

You will stand tall and radiant in the sun.

And though your budding trees are covered with snow–
they will thaw, and live, and in time, flourish again.

And you will not be shaken. For God is with you.
So don’t fear the frost. This winter WILL end.

Spring is coming, Jesus is on the move, can you feel it?
And Summer will come. But as long as this winter lasts–do not lose heart. Direct your heart to the Lord, that you may say with great confidence,

“Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.”
Habakkuk 3:17-18

How Fear Robs Me of the Life God Wants Me To Live

life

They said the lump is probably nothing. But I can’t know yet.

I have to wait. And my mind—it goes there every single day. I don’t mean for it to. It just…does.

What if I’m dying and I don’t know it? What if I don’t have much time left?

I am afraid to die. I am afraid of many things.

And it shifts. Sometimes it’s ISIS. Or mass shootings. And I wonder if some gunman will start unloading while we’re in the grocery store, or at Target. Or the movie theater. Or a restaurant. Or concert hall.

Because that’s what happened in Paris, right?

And is there any safe place?

Some nights I go to bed, and wonder if some foreign enemy will attack our lands over night? And every sunrise feels like a little miracle. That we are safe another day.

When I get in the car, I whisper a prayer over my daughter in her car seat. I strap her in tight. I kiss her face all over.

I ask the angels to watch over us.

And, I try to be so safe, you know? I try to be so vigilant. But I worry we’ll get in some horrible accident.

There are so many fears that haunt me. There are so many fears that shake my inner peace.

I don’t want to die—but look at me. Look at my fears:
I spend my days dying, more than living.

Fear has this way of choking out everything good in my life.

All the joy.

And this is one of those things—I don’t really want to talk about.

But I have to.

Because it’s real. It’s this reality that is living under the surface of my skin. All the time.

Tonight, after I gave my daughter her bath, and dried her hair, and zipped her into her fleece jammies, I started worrying about the “lump” again. The one they said is probably just a lypoma. But they can’t be 100% certain.

And as I began to get lost in the fear—that I could be dying—the Holy Spirit whispered something to my heart, He said,

“Will you choose life or death?”

He was confronting me, ever so gently. “Will you spend your life living? Or dying? Because if you spend the days I’ve given you as a slave to fear and death–then you will spend your days dying and missing all the good I have for you. But if you trust Me, you will live and spend your days alive in Me.”

I remember reading a Scripture about God telling His people to choose life or death. And I left the last few dishes in the sink, and I went to find it.

I searched in the back of my husband’s big study bible—and I found it. It’s in Deuteronomy 30.

Moses is at the end of his life and he is preaching to the people of Israel. He’s telling them to choose life or death. Obedience or rebellion. Blessings or curses.

He says,
“For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off…But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.”
Deuteronomy 30:11 &14

It is not too hard for you.

It is not far off.

It is near you.

It is in your mouth and heart.

You can do it.

“See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil. If you obey the commandments of the LORD your God that I command you today, by loving the LORD your God, by walking in his ways, and by keeping His commandments and his statutes and His rules, then you shall live and multiply, and the LORD your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to take possession of it. But if your heart turns away, and you will not hear, but are drawn away to worship other gods and serve them, I declare to you today, that you shall surely perish.” Deuteronomy 30:15-18

He sets before you life and death.
Good and evil.

And if you want to possess the land—and the life—then obey His voice. And live.

But if your heart turns away from Him. If you stop listening for His voice. If you are drawn away to worship other gods. (Even the god of self-preservation. And the god of fear.) And if you serve those gods—

If you serve those gods, you will surely perish.

The god of fear makes you a slave–and it will make you spend your days dying, not living.

“I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse.” Deuteronomy 30:19

God says, we get to choose.

Life or death.

Will we follow the way of Life,
Or the way of Death?

Every day Death haunts me—threatens to steal my peace, my joy, my life.

But tonight Life is calling me.

He’s running toward me, and beckoning. He’s shouting loudly, “Live!”

Don’t spend your life fearing you will lose your life. Or you will lose it. Slowly. Every day.

If I keep living in fear, if I keep letting anxiety rule my life, if I keep letting dread dictate my steps, and my thoughts—I won’t be living anymore. I will be dying.

Dear brothers and sisters—I don’t want to constantly think about how I might die.

I want to start thinking about how I will live.

I don’t know how I will die–and I don’t need to know. I need to know how I will live. I need to know how I will every day and every hour throw off the shackles of fear, and burdens of doubt. I need to know how I will inhale and exhale the breath of God and eat His Word like it is my only food. I need to love well, and love hard, stop being so afraid to risk this life–because it’s not my own anyway. I was bought at a price.

And I hope when I come to the end–however near or far that may be–that I show up to heaven’s gates having lived. That I will have spent my life living–and not dying. I hope I show up with my heart riveted with scars, but bursting with joy, with wrinkles in my skin, and fire in my eyes, and my arms open, and my pockets empty. Before Him who is Jesus.

The One who called me. The faithful and true. The beginning and the end. Who first whispered my name, and who I will hear whisper it again–the moment my eyes flutter open to eternity. To see Him, with my own eyes.

“Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying His voice and holding fast to Him, for He is your life and length of days, that you may dwell in the land that the LORD swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac, and to Jacob, to give them.” Deuteronomy 30:19-20

Choose life. (Choose Him over your fears.)

Love the Lord your God.

Obey His voice.

Hold fast to Him.

For He is your life.

And length of days.

Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. But I have come that you may have life, and have it more abundantly.”

Have life.

And have it more abundantly.

So stop thinking about how you will die,

And start thinking about how you will live.

In Him.

For He is your life, 

and length of days. 

When Motherhood Gets Messy


“Don’t touch Mommy when she’s on the potty.”

This is an actual rule in our house. One of those rules you never imagine making before entering motherhood, but makes total sense after the fact. My daughter is two, and when I’m on the toilet, she likes to stand right up next to me, with her hand on my thigh like a faithful midwife.

A midwife who won’t leave. Who screams and pounds on the door when I try to lock her out. It’s rather stressful…for all digestive purposes.

My daughter has a way of entering my space. Whether I want her to, or not. How I am disarmed by a two-year-old day after day, I am still trying to figure out.

We’re in the potty training stage right now. Which means…I currently spend most my free time sitting on the bathroom floor. Waiting for her to “finish.”

I never thought I’d be comfortable eating my breakfast cereal or drinking my coffee while she stinks up the place. But I am.

I am reaching new “lows” like a Limbo champ.

Public Bathroom or Wrestling Cage?

Public bathrooms are the worst.

My daughter is obsessed with them. Every time we’re in a new store, she wants to “go.” I’ll open the door of the stall, and she races in like she’s first in line at the gate of Disney World. And she always heads for the same place, that little one foot gap between the toilet and the wall. You know, the place where only two things—the plunger and toilet brush–should be? But alas. My girl makes three and picks them up and greets them like long lost relatives. That’s when I start screaming, “No! No!!! Yucky!! Put those down!! Yucky germs! No! No! Not in your mouth!!!” So much for peaceful parenting. Get me in a public restroom and I’m a fire-breathing dragon.

The whole experience is catastrophic. And as we take turns going potty, I’m not sure what’s worse: my turn, when she stands with her hand on the latch of the stall door, and smiles, knowing I am at her complete mercy, while I threaten her, “Don’t you DARE open that door!!” Or her turn, when she nearly takes a plunge into the enormous toilet while screaming, “I do it myself!” and then rummages her hand through the “feminine napkin” box like it’s a Happy Meal. Either way, it usually ends in a lot of screaming and scuffling and banging around. Sounding much like a wrestling cage-match to the person in the stall next to us.

(If you’re not a mom, imagine someone trying to sit on a toilet and wrestle an alligator at the same time. Because that’s much what’s going when Mommy and Toddler are in the next stall.)

[Click here to finish reading the rest of this post at Thriving Home Blog, where I have had the priviledge of being featured by Polly and Rachel.]