Best of Times...Worst of Times

So, I love the local radio show the Bobby Bones Show. On Monday's they normally do a best of times and worst of times where they go around the room and add their times from the weekend. Well, I thought I'd start that little tradition here, but I am starting with a more global topic...motherhood. I can pin point my best and worst and will share them below.
Trace and Elizabeth are almost 5 and 2 1/2 and here are my best and worst times since I brought them into this world...

Best of times: Hands down it was when Trace scored his first goal in soccer this past spring. It was late in the season and he'd really worked his way from standing center field and waving while the game went on around him (week 1) to really getting in there and trying to play. So, when he scored his first goal - I lost it and was the screaming mom with arms up in the air. We also had our usual group of about 10 others (grandparents and aunts and uncles) who got to share in the moment. Trace just turned and had the most precious, proud smile. I think he was shocked, but then he started to wipe at his eyes and I lost it. I mean come on. He was very lucky to have Coach Tucker who celebrated with him too. It was my most proud moment as a mom...not because of the goal...but because he was just so proud of himself and I never knew how great it would feel to see him succeed at something.

Worst of times: Hands down, it was this last week. I had taken both kids to the pool to kill some time before daddy got home. It had been a great trip, but as it got to be time to go, Trace and I were going round and round over a toy that had been left at the pool. While I was focused on Trace and the toy in the pool (something that I beat myself up later for was an absolute waste of mothering), Elizabeth decided to join us, but didn't tell me. For whatever reason, I happened to turn and see her flailing about in the pool. It was horrifying. Luckily, she was close to me and I got to her quickly. She was ok, but screamed loud enough for the neighborhood to hear. Obviously she could breathe, but poor thing was scared much like her mother. Trace then though decided to throw his own fit since I told him that we were going home and leaving the toy. I can count how many he has thrown in his lifetime (three in total) which I thank God for every day, but man, he let me have it. I had two screaming children, I was shell shocked from seeing Elizabeth in the water (and the absolute horror of what "could have" happened) and made it home in time for my own tears to fall.

The kids were fine after a few minutes, but when JP got home I was a mess. He just kept telling me that everything was okay and luckily we just have to live and learn. So, I had my pity party for my mothering abilities, and now I have experienced first hand the dangers of the pool (AND I WAS RIGHT THERE). So, learn from me, pick your battles, watch your babies or keep the floaties on until you get home and have a wonderful husband who just says, "The kids need to go to bed and you just need a little drink".

I just pray that I don't have many "worsts" that involve the safety of my children. Even now as I type and look at Elizabeth's picture, I tear up with the thought of something ever happening to them. They are God's gift in my life and can't imagine my life without them.