Ever since Stratton was born, and Beck decided to take the 'I'm overly emotional to an unbelievable level' role in the family dynamics, I approach many of my days in a self-preservation, let's get through the day sort of mentality. And although this aptly describes how I feel and should expect to feel on rare occasions, it has all too often become a catch phrase in my life and my daily routine.
I have always felt that this conundrum is a part of life. Much of life is cyclical for the role of a stay at home mom. Feed the children, change the children, bathe the children, teach the children. After a certain amount of time your 'appreciation' for your little blessings wanes, and although you never take them for granted so to speak, it is more like you become numb to exactly how blessed you are.
This is where God comes in.
This isn't the first time, and it undoubtedly will not be the last time, in my life where such an occurrence sneaks up behind me just to smack me in the face and say 'WAKE UP'.
This past weekend I spent two days visiting my dear friends in Houston. The entire trip I was able to sit back and watch Jess interact with her two year old son and take care of her new baby girl. It was such a refreshing experience. It goes without saying that although she has her hands full, they aren't quite as full as mine (at least not yet), but the way that she approaches motherhood was a good reminder of how far I have drifted from my own beliefs. Instead of attempting to check things off a to-do list, or have a million and one activities going at once, she simply sat down and colored with her son for hours on end. And aside from the breaks he took to dance to Michael Jackson (a treat to watch in itself), he was completely happy simply to have all of mommy's attention.
Too much of my day is spent multitasking. Playing barbies with one hand, racing cars with the other, while making silly faces at Stratton sitting on my lap (all the while thinking about when I need to start getting a bottle ready, or when I am going to find the time to clean up the kitchen). And although the rugrats are quiet at moments like these...are they happy? Sometimes you need to take the time to make one on one attention, even when you aren't necessarily one on one (which I RARELY am anymore). Seeing Jess this weekend helped me remember that it isn't quantity of time, but rather quality that really matters. Jess, you are an amazing mother, I am proud to call you my friend, and see your friendship as a true blessing in my life. Thank you for reminding me that motherhood isn't about occupying your children, but interacting with them.
I am reminded that I am truly only as busy as I believe I am. And life is only as complicated and crazy as I decide it to be.
Just before leaving on my quick weekend get away, I was informed from Jason that a couple of friends of ours (who we assumed were trying to start a family) had recently miscarried their first pregnancy at 7 weeks. The weight of this news hurt my heart in a way I can't describe. I feel their pain, their heartache, their fragility. And I see myself once again crouched into a little ball on my bed after finding out about our first loss, and our second. It never gets easier, every time I hear of someone having to go through this. I never forget what it was like for us, and the pain swells back up inside. I don't think about those two babies all the time now, but every once in a while I am reminded of those trials and the grief that swaddled them. I am praying for them, lifting them up to God, that they find understanding and comfort in such a difficult situation. I pray that they give up their own life direction and replace it with the much greater and powerful one He has already given us.
I came home from my trip and hugged my kids a little tighter. When I read to Kylie that night I wasn't just reading the words on a page, but I was transported with her to Rainspell Island while the fairies tried to defeat the evil Jack Frost for the millionth time. When I kissed Beck goodnight I told him I loved him, which I always do, but spoke the words from the heart rather than from rote. And I appreciated the quiet time Stratton and I had in the middle of the night, when it seemed like all the world was sleeping except for he and I.
I am forever grateful for these humbling moments when I am overwhelmed with how much He has given me. I vow to TRY and wake every morning with a refreshed attitude, one not of survival, but of joy...at least until the next time I am in need of God's little reminder...
