It's Saturday afternoon and everyone in the house is asleep for nap (Hubby included). It's quiet. My life is very rarely quiet. The lull of the dishwasher and hum of the dryer are almost therapeutic and boy have I needed some catharsis lately.
Never fear. Nothing earth-shattering has occurred, other than enrolling Pumpkin for Kindergarten and having Bug almost fully potty-trained. They are growing up. My logical brain knew this would happen. I'm not sure my heart was ready for it, because it has brought with it a bittersweet heaviness.
It is the eternal first world mother-struggle, so I know I'm not unique. I'm so fortunate that my "grave" concern is that they are growing too fast, rather than not growing; that I am trying to find more leisure time to spend with them and not worrying about where their next meal will come from. I am fortunate beyond belief and to even consider my woes as problems is almost selfish. Nonetheless, my humble and grateful heart still aches sometimes.
Our life has become busy-ness. I sometimes feel that I am just checking boxes and meeting deadlines, both at work and at home. Each day we hit the ground running and the days bleed into the next. The chores pile up. Work never ends. It is a rare moment that I am ever sitting. I am sure most moms can relate.
But I realized last week, sitting in church, that while I am doing everything I do FOR my family, I am so busy doing FOR them that I fail to do WITH them. Rather than making sure their clothes are neatly folded, I want to spend more time on the floor with them, painting, dressing up, giggling. They will never look back and reminisce on how clean my kitchen was or how many cases I settled. These will not be their memories. I know this because they are not mine from my childhood. What they will remember is the time we spent and how we spent it. As they say, we are given each day the gift of time and we are the only ones that can choose how we spend it.
Of course, that doesn't mean I get to quit work and play games all day. Of course we must respond to duty's call. But I am vowing here and now that when I am WITH my girls, I will try to really be WITH them. I will try to let go of the things that do not matter. I will try to fuss less.
Now that I've gotten that off my chest...
The girls are amazing. I am convinced that Bug is either going to be a stunt-woman or a stand up comic. Seemingly overnight she blossomed into this non-stop laugh machine, complete with absolutely nonsensical knock knock jokes and nearly constant squealing. Her favorite way to get from one point to the next is running with her arms spread behind her like wings. Her only speed is full blast.
Then there is Pumpkin. She's becoming a very talented artist. She truly has an eye for color. I suppose that is why every car ride has become a continuation of a never ending game of "I Spy." She has also taken to spelling words rather than speaking them. So now when she wants something it is "M-o-m-m-y, c-a-n I g-o p-l-a-y." Trying to interpret the spelling over Bug's squealing and usually while trying to rescue Bug from some danger she has joyfully encountered makes for a crazy house most of the time. But luckily it is one full of laughter.
And laughter truly is contagious. This morning at the grocery store the two girls were in the buggy singing "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" at the top of their lungs, squeaking the dog toys we had picked up for Percy, all while Bug literally at a hot dog bun through the plastic wrap and all I could do was crack up. And my heart was full to see other people pass by and smile knowing that maybe my silly little nuts made someone's heart a little lighter today.
So here's to a rainy Saturday with nowhere to be but with my munchkins, because like my home in Glory-land, my home right here outshines the sun when they are around.
Never fear. Nothing earth-shattering has occurred, other than enrolling Pumpkin for Kindergarten and having Bug almost fully potty-trained. They are growing up. My logical brain knew this would happen. I'm not sure my heart was ready for it, because it has brought with it a bittersweet heaviness.
It is the eternal first world mother-struggle, so I know I'm not unique. I'm so fortunate that my "grave" concern is that they are growing too fast, rather than not growing; that I am trying to find more leisure time to spend with them and not worrying about where their next meal will come from. I am fortunate beyond belief and to even consider my woes as problems is almost selfish. Nonetheless, my humble and grateful heart still aches sometimes.
Our life has become busy-ness. I sometimes feel that I am just checking boxes and meeting deadlines, both at work and at home. Each day we hit the ground running and the days bleed into the next. The chores pile up. Work never ends. It is a rare moment that I am ever sitting. I am sure most moms can relate.
But I realized last week, sitting in church, that while I am doing everything I do FOR my family, I am so busy doing FOR them that I fail to do WITH them. Rather than making sure their clothes are neatly folded, I want to spend more time on the floor with them, painting, dressing up, giggling. They will never look back and reminisce on how clean my kitchen was or how many cases I settled. These will not be their memories. I know this because they are not mine from my childhood. What they will remember is the time we spent and how we spent it. As they say, we are given each day the gift of time and we are the only ones that can choose how we spend it.
Of course, that doesn't mean I get to quit work and play games all day. Of course we must respond to duty's call. But I am vowing here and now that when I am WITH my girls, I will try to really be WITH them. I will try to let go of the things that do not matter. I will try to fuss less.
Now that I've gotten that off my chest...
The girls are amazing. I am convinced that Bug is either going to be a stunt-woman or a stand up comic. Seemingly overnight she blossomed into this non-stop laugh machine, complete with absolutely nonsensical knock knock jokes and nearly constant squealing. Her favorite way to get from one point to the next is running with her arms spread behind her like wings. Her only speed is full blast.
Then there is Pumpkin. She's becoming a very talented artist. She truly has an eye for color. I suppose that is why every car ride has become a continuation of a never ending game of "I Spy." She has also taken to spelling words rather than speaking them. So now when she wants something it is "M-o-m-m-y, c-a-n I g-o p-l-a-y." Trying to interpret the spelling over Bug's squealing and usually while trying to rescue Bug from some danger she has joyfully encountered makes for a crazy house most of the time. But luckily it is one full of laughter.
And laughter truly is contagious. This morning at the grocery store the two girls were in the buggy singing "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" at the top of their lungs, squeaking the dog toys we had picked up for Percy, all while Bug literally at a hot dog bun through the plastic wrap and all I could do was crack up. And my heart was full to see other people pass by and smile knowing that maybe my silly little nuts made someone's heart a little lighter today.
So here's to a rainy Saturday with nowhere to be but with my munchkins, because like my home in Glory-land, my home right here outshines the sun when they are around.
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