i’m making breakfast this morning and i tell my 1st to hurry. reminding her we need to leave in 5 minutes. she asks me if it would be okay if i not talk to her for 2 minutes. -she says she needs some “space”.
i’m feeding two babies simultaneously in two separate high chairs. they both pooped for the second time in a ten minute time frame.
the dog just opened the door by herself and is peeling down the street. i think about going after her.
and then i shrug and move on.
i’m trying to respond to a text and accidentally take a picture of myself.
wow. that’s terrifying.-is that really what i look like? jesus help me.
samuel decides he doesn’t really want yogurt this morning (even though he begged for it yesterday) so he is plopping it on the floor in slow deliberate motions. i don’t even care, cause the kitchen floor is already a mess. what’s new? i call for ella to lap up what is on the floor. oh wait. she’s up the street.
lucie is sweet. and quiet. but not anymore because samuel just hit her in the head with his spoon. i should enforce a consequence for that, but i am tired and i pretend i don’t see. sorry lu.
samuel threw a tantrum for an hour and a half after breakfast. every time i offered him something to eat he would lay down on the floor and dog hair and slobber would collect together all over his face. he avoided me forever, hiding under tables and so forth. finally he is eating in his high chair happily flying his chicken around like an airplane.
i can’t tell you how many times a day i’ve started prayers and haven’t been able to get to the 4th word with out having to grab a baby or a toddler or swat the nose of a dog eating off the counter.
this is hard. i mean…really hard. its the hardest thing i have ever done. all of us moms should get medals every single day. someone should literally come to your door after you put the kids in bed and tell you how wonderful you are and what a fine job you did…hand you a bottle of wine and a few gluten free treats and maybe an anthro candle on the especially hard days and applaud you…every damn day.
but i suppose a job well done already comes with its own rewards.
for instance, its kind of rewarding when samuel is rocking out to twisted sister, smiling from ear to ear and stomping his feet singing “we’re not gonna take it any moooooowa!”. (it slays ben and i) or when he smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye, tilts his head to one side and gives me a coy grin. and my heart melts. and those eye lashes. don’t get me started. and lucie, with her soft silky hands. and the way she gently rubs my arm back and forth while she’s nursing. the way she’s been saying “doink doink” in staccato like fashion while she’s focusing on her little fingers with curiosity. that little mouth forming sweet little noises. the way she immediately dances to music with one little hand in the air. and emri, the way i over-heard her telling samuel on the bed, “lets tell stories and talk together.” the way she takes care of the little ones. the way she fights for what is right. the way she prays for the trouble makers in her class. and when i hold her hand, i think… its so little still.
and even though my brain feels like mush and i can’t finish a prayer, the goodness of all these children oozes out everywhere. and sometimes…when i give up trying so hard to do. or to be…
i surrender and lay on the floor with my squishy little ones that will not be so little for long. and let them jump and crawl all over me. and i breath them in.
i think Jesus has a special place in his heart for those who are raising little people. i believe there is special grace and that we truly are carried. and that he probably finishes my interrupted prayers.
perusing the internet can be hard on a mother. its easy when you are in the seasons of the littles, to feel a lot of temptation to believe that whatever you are doing isn’t enough. i think that’s pretty tragic. how a mother who is ferociously loving her child and keeping them alive- nourishing its tiny frame…feels all this pressure to do all things unrealistic. i guess thats not so much limited to moms though.
ben and i have been talking about how the world makes us feel like we need so many unnecessary things. the whole thing kind of seems toxic. when really most of the things we really need aren’t tangible.
like faith. hope. love. joy. peace.
and jesus. and each other.
and when i say “each other” i don’t mean through social media or text messaging.
i mean the kind of “each other” where you look someone in the eyes and reach out and hold their hands-each other.
that’s what we need.
i mean, is there anything greater? we decided as a family at every hour (that we can remember) … (which actually adds up to maybe three times a day. but hey, thats three more than zero guys.) that we are going to pray the richness of faith. hope. love. joy. and peace. over our family.
we are in the middle of a move and some big changes in our lives. but i feel Jesus carrying us.
i literally feel carried.
its not the first time Jesus has done something like that. you know, to carry those in the middle of move who were with little ones.
like a shepherd he will care for his flock. gathering the lambs in his arms. hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture. -isaiah 40:11