I started writing a post today while the little were sleeping. It was about nap time mind-games. The ongoing battle between choosing between doing the stuff you need to get done, or choosing to do something for yourself. I couldn’t finish it. It felt like whining. When I wrote it I was frustrated that I was not keeping up. I was loosing the laundry battle, I couldn’t find 20 minutes to sit down and figure out how to digitally borrow a book from the library even though I got the app for it days ago. I absolutely could not play legos with Shepherd because I had to wet-vac the carpet Charlotte spilled milk all over yesterday. When evening rolled around, I chose not to show love or patience to Erron over a tricky topic because I had used up all my love and patience before he got home. He got annoyance and brutal honesty instead. I needed a time out, and I got it when I ducked out to catch a late movie with my sister after the kids were put down for bed.
Two and a half hours later, I snuck back into a quiet house, and crept into every bedroom to spy on the person sleeping there, adjusting covers, feeling my heart so full of love that it brought on the pinprick of tears. Charlotte just got moved to a big girl bed, and she sleeps in it sideways, like she’s still in a crib. I watched the air move in and out of Shepherd’s lungs with gratitude and gazed at my husband in amazement that he tolerates being last in line as often as he does.
This week I have been obsessing over getting my house back in order, checking off my to-do list and what my hair would look like with extensions. I forgot that to two little people, I am the whole world…I can make it magical by simply showing up. Being physically and mentally present. To one man, I am the center of the universe, I have the power to make him feel like a million bucks or treat him like he’s another person to deal with when he walks in the door. It’s such a life altering perspective that’s so easy to forget.
I needed to remember.