Spa Day

Baby number two’s due date is this week, and the panic has set in.

It’s not so much that I am anxious about having ALL of the baby things or nervous for labor, though those thoughts have definitely been running through my mind.

It is the realization that our family of three is about to become a family of four. And when I look at my sweet 2-year-old, I am realizing that she is no longer going to be my baby.

Of course I can’t wait to meet my son and snuggle him, but that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye to a season of just me and my little girl.

So in an attempt to squeeze in one last *Instagram perfect* memory with my spunky toddler, I planned an elaborate spa morning for us. Girls only.

Face masks. Essential oil lotion. Nail polish. Manicure kit. Hair ties. UberEats Starbucks order.

Yes, this was going to be an epic day.

**Did I mention that I suffer from a severe case of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out)?**

The morning started off great. We were chanting “Spa day! Spa day!” during breakfast. We rushed Daddy out the door because *NO boys allowed* and got right to it.

Within minutes, the crying began. Out of excitement she had rubbed the facemask into her sweet eyes. It became a pretty quick downward spiral from there.

The nail clippers became a toy for her baby doll, she ran away three times, she screamed the whole time I clipped her nails, and she asked for the “paint” a million times because she wanted to dump out the polish.

The final straw was when we ACTUALLY got around to painting her nails, and she itched her legs until they were smeared terribly.

That is when my hormones and FOMO mixed together to create the perfect tornado of irrational emotions, and I snapped, “ENOUGH!”

I proceeded to inform my toddler that spa day was over and it was too bad that we couldn’t have enjoyed it more.


She looked up at me with those precious brown-green eyes, and all I could see was sadness.

She was frustrated that she didn’t meet my standards.

She was hurt that I had snapped at her.

She was heartbroken because she had disappointed her mommy.

Those eyes convicted me.

What am I doing? She is TWO years old! All she wants is my time, love, and attention, not an elaborate event.

After apologizing, I explained to her that my reason for all the hoopla was to show her that I loved her SO very much.

Relieved, she clung to me and quietly replied, “Love you berry much.”

We agreed to change “Spa Day” to “Girls Day” and enjoyed our UberEats Starbucks delivery while reading books, playing Play-Doh, and rocking baby dolls to sleep.

Because that is what matters to a child: undivided attention, doing something they love.

So many lessons were learned that day:

When we put too much pressure on making memories, we crush them. It is the collection of organic, unplanned moments that form lasting memories.

It stinks to make mistakes as parents, but the power of forgiveness is a beautiful thing.

I tend to go off the deep end when pregnant…

You can never go wrong with Starbucks.

Will my little girl remember our spa day mishap a year from now? No (thank goodness). Will she doubt my love for her? Absolutely not.

The reality is that every day has its ups and downs, and we are going to fail. Oh mama, do we fail. But when we live this messy life allowing room for grace (even for ourselves), the result for our children is better than memories of Disneyland or the perfect shopping trip. It is the comfort of knowing that they are unconditionally loved.

And, that, NO spa day can ruin.

“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.”  -Ephesians 6:4


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