The world can be a messy place. I am reminded of this as I sit, PJs still on, barefoot and non-showered at 10:44 a.m. on a Thursday morning…. as I work on our family’s budget. OUCH.
‘We’ve got to start doing the envelope system again…’ I think to myself as I stand, balancing my laptop and my lukewarm cup of decaf green tea. I hear my middle son scream at the top of his lungs and then a “THUMP” echoes down the hallway. I pause, waiting to see if there’s going to be backlash… but there is none. I sigh, move my laptop and tea to a higher, out-of-the-reach-of-the-baby location and head to the laundry room, to once again stumble over mounds of laundry (piles after endless piles of laundry…).
My life has become a large wad of lost socks, muddy shoes, and crumbs on the kitchen floor (… and table…and the counter… and yes, my middle child’s bed sheets). Boogers, crusty dishes, soggy dog food, unfinished landscaping, and Legos… are EVERYWHERE. (Seriously. I just found some in my closet. Legos, not boogers. I mean- come on!!!)
I never thought these phrases would come out of my mouth… and yet, it has happened.
– “Please, let me poop in PEACE!”
– “ DO YOU KNOW HOW TO WHISPER???!!!!????”
– “Do you want the dog to eat your face off?”
– “Oh no! He’s eating dirt again…”
At the end of the day, as I sit here writing this blog, I find myself recalling the bad, the ugly… but most importantly, the beautiful parts of my day. That moment, when my ornery child, who just seconds ago was wiggling out of his chair at lunchtime, looks full in my face and tells me that he thinks I’m pretty. The rare occurrence when my youngest baby, after a full day of non-stop moving, shaking, walking and crawling, drops his head on my shoulder and snuggles in, waiting for me to sing him his lullaby. And that heart-stopping moment, when I realize that I can see my eldest son’s head bobbing above the high bar counter. How did he get so tall?
Those moments make me want to hold onto my children, kiss them at every possible second, and enjoy my ride. This wonderful, exhausting, and live-every-moment ride that my boys have brought into my life.
So, yes, tomorrow, as I fold yet another basket of laundry, sweep the kitchen floor for the 100,000th time, and step on yet, another blue Lego piece, I will be still.
And live in those moments.
They will not last forever.
And no sooner than I can blink, they will be gone… only memories echoing through my mind.