On The Floor

So far, I can say that today is an ordinary Monday.  {With an opening sentence like that, I know that hearts are beating faster in anticipation.}  We woke up to realize that Da-ee is not here.  He had to go back to work, so Mama's left to do this solo.  Que: laundry day.  We ripped the sheets off the bed, sorted the clothes, got breakfast, made a dash for more coffee beans, and came back home.  Fern napped, Burl and I played in the front yard.  Once she woke up, we came inside and found ourselves with a little floor time.  We played.  Nothing special-just blocks and protect Fern's head.

Sometimes when I'm playing with the kids, I start to get anxious.  I start to think of what I could be doing or what I need to be doing or what I want to be doing instead.  I have to make myself sit and play.  Playing with the kids is just about the most important thing that I can be doing at the time. I have a hard time remembering that, and I have a hard time feeling that.

 

This week, I've changed how I look at that special, only-little-once time.  This is what I do: I remember what it was like before I had Burl and Fern.  I remember those long afternoons at the little shops where I worked and things got really slow and I felt so bored.  I felt like everyone else was having fun at work and I was not.  Like a light switch, my attitude changes.  My perspective ignites.  What I wouldn't do back then for some of this time right now.  

 

In an instant, I become super mom.

I am taken back by how wonderful these little lives are.

I'm so thankful that the Lord lets me stay home and be a mom to them.

I long for nothing else but for this little time right here.  Right now.
I grab my camera that is beside me and snap some pictures, because they are so fun to photograph.

Me: "Hey Burl, can you sit on the floor by Fern so I can take a picture?"

Burl: "Ughhhh, Yep!" {loads of enthusiasm}

This is what I get:

I finally pick up Burl.  Sit him down.  Take his chubby little baby arm and place it behind his chubby little sister and hope I can scoot back quickly before I lose that kodak moment.  This is what I got:

And it's cute and precious.  It can almost be called the perfect one.
I love it almost as much as I love the goofy ones above.

I've heard something quoted like this or seen this theme in a movie and it's very true for me on this ordinary Monday: Whether it's pictures or parenting, being perfect isn't nearly as fun as the journey along the way.