In the madness and the craziness of our days, it's quite often that I feel disconnected from what's most important in life. Take for instance, our mornings.
The chaos before work and school is pretty much consumed with nothing short of running around the house, screaming bursts of..."Did you brush your teeth? Is your backpack ready? Are you wearing underwear?"
Flying in the car on the way to school or football practice after school is usually filled with, "MOOOOOOM! Preston's touching me!"
"Preston, don't touch your brother."
"MOOOOOOM! Ethan's looking at me!"
"Ethan! Stop looking at your brother!"
"MOMMY! Lauren's breathing on me!"
"SERIOUSLY?! GUYS. NOBODY LOOK, TOUCH or BREATHE on ANYONE ELSE! GOT IT?!"
"got it."
"Mommy?"
"WHAT?!"
"I fourgot to weawr undurweawr."
This Saturday, after Preston's football game, I realized just how bad it was. I needed to run into the store on the way home so I stopped and we went in together. Just the two of us. I held his little six year old hand...not to keep him from running off with his siblings or to avert oncoming cars...but simply...to hold his hand.
There was no yelling, no herding and no stress. We walked and talked throughout the store. It was, amazing. He kept telling me how he liked getting "tickets" in school during lunch. Having no idea what this meant, I made a mental note to ask his teacher.
Driving home from the store, the car was quiet and peaceful. The two of us continued to talk and there were bunnies and birds waving as we passed by.
Last night when the kids were in bed, Adam and I began the monotonous routine of cleaning after dinner. I went to pull their lunchboxes out to get them ready for the morning.
When I unzipped Preston's lunchbox, a tiny piece of paper fell out with crumbs and his uneaten snack.
The chaos before work and school is pretty much consumed with nothing short of running around the house, screaming bursts of..."Did you brush your teeth? Is your backpack ready? Are you wearing underwear?"
Flying in the car on the way to school or football practice after school is usually filled with, "MOOOOOOM! Preston's touching me!"
"Preston, don't touch your brother."
"MOOOOOOM! Ethan's looking at me!"
"Ethan! Stop looking at your brother!"
"MOMMY! Lauren's breathing on me!"
"SERIOUSLY?! GUYS. NOBODY LOOK, TOUCH or BREATHE on ANYONE ELSE! GOT IT?!"
"got it."
"Mommy?"
"WHAT?!"
"I fourgot to weawr undurweawr."
This Saturday, after Preston's football game, I realized just how bad it was. I needed to run into the store on the way home so I stopped and we went in together. Just the two of us. I held his little six year old hand...not to keep him from running off with his siblings or to avert oncoming cars...but simply...to hold his hand.
There was no yelling, no herding and no stress. We walked and talked throughout the store. It was, amazing. He kept telling me how he liked getting "tickets" in school during lunch. Having no idea what this meant, I made a mental note to ask his teacher.
Driving home from the store, the car was quiet and peaceful. The two of us continued to talk and there were bunnies and birds waving as we passed by.
Last night when the kids were in bed, Adam and I began the monotonous routine of cleaning after dinner. I went to pull their lunchboxes out to get them ready for the morning.
When I unzipped Preston's lunchbox, a tiny piece of paper fell out with crumbs and his uneaten snack.
Lifting my hand to my mouth, I whispered, "The TICKET! This is what he was talking about!"
Looking over his shoulder, Adam nodded. "Oh, yeah. He's been getting those in his lunchbox. I don't know what they're from but I keep pulling them out."
Feeling my eyes begin to water, I shook my head. "He's been getting Love notes...from someone ELSE'S Mom, Adam! Some organized, put together, on top of everything, Mom!"
Turning back, Adam couldn't help but laugh. "Beatty. Just because you don't put notes in their lunchboxes, doesn't mean you're not organized."
"ADAM! Our kids don't wear UNDERWEAR!"
Yes. Maybe one day, our house will be harmonious. One day, breakfast will be warm and fill our home with the smell of cinnamon and love. My handsome husband and four neatly and beautifully put together children to scamper down the stairs to sit happily at the table and smile. Their lunches will have notes and they'll all have tidy hair, teeth and yes...they'll even be wearing their underwear.
THANK YOU for VOTING! You're the BEST!!! XO
Looking over his shoulder, Adam nodded. "Oh, yeah. He's been getting those in his lunchbox. I don't know what they're from but I keep pulling them out."
Feeling my eyes begin to water, I shook my head. "He's been getting Love notes...from someone ELSE'S Mom, Adam! Some organized, put together, on top of everything, Mom!"
Turning back, Adam couldn't help but laugh. "Beatty. Just because you don't put notes in their lunchboxes, doesn't mean you're not organized."
"ADAM! Our kids don't wear UNDERWEAR!"
Yes. Maybe one day, our house will be harmonious. One day, breakfast will be warm and fill our home with the smell of cinnamon and love. My handsome husband and four neatly and beautifully put together children to scamper down the stairs to sit happily at the table and smile. Their lunches will have notes and they'll all have tidy hair, teeth and yes...they'll even be wearing their underwear.
THANK YOU for VOTING! You're the BEST!!! XO
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