I heard kiddos fussing and stirring before 7 am. Saturday. Please, not yet. I just want a little longer.
We get up. We had fun last night, setting up the projector in the garage. It was supposed to be in the driveway against the garage door, but a sudden windstorm changed those plans. So we had our home theater in the garage, between the deep freeze and the power tools.
The house is a mess. I dropped a large amount of supper off the plate and onto the stove, and sauce is seeped down into the burner controls. There’s the ever present mix of Duplos and Legos on the living room floor. The trash is overflowing. Dishes still in the sink.
Let me just tell you, there’s no mess like Saturday morning, not-yet-medicated ADHD mess.
I’m greeted by said mess and familiar feelings of dreaded Saturdays. So much unstructured time...I don’t know what I want, but refereeing siblings scuffles, supervising clean-ups, and answering the same questions over and over again doesn’t sound like a relaxing Saturday.
Does that make me a bad mom? No. I know it doesn’t. I know that this is our season of life right now.
But. The conviction I feel about the current state of my heart should not be ignored. Dread, fear, and anxiety are not glorifying to God. Selfish wallowing about ideal Saturday morning conditions is not a way to lay down my life. Jesus never wallowed, He simply obeyed.
No. I don’t want to start this Saturday in frustration, in this joyless state. Even if I didn’t get much extra sleep. Even if I have a messy house. Even if I don’t get through a whole cup of coffee.
So. I’m starting out with writing. I’m starting out in gratitude. My kids are happy this morning. Thank you.
We watched a movie last night, on a large screen, seated in lawn chairs next to the freezer, stuffed full of frozen goods. We have food. We have shelter from the storm. We have modern unnecessary conveniences, like movies and Wi-fi and projector screens.
My son grabs the bottle of my favorite coffee creamer and yells, “Almond joy bazooka!! Get it, Mom? Almond JOYYY?” He points the bottle at me (lid on, more gratitude) and begins making kissy sounds at me. “Its launching kisses at you.”
He shot me some joy this morning. And I write it down.
There. This is why I chose to write this morning. Why I chose gratitude. The physical act of sitting down to write, forcing my mind towards things of joy, and recording it. To set aside the ever-looming to-do list so I can set my heart in the right direction for the day.
My kids need me to parent, to train, to play in love and in joy. From the love and joy that I must cultivate in myself, walking in faith and in God’s truth.
I need to parent godly, even in chaotic times. I was not made to parent in ideal conditions only. Godly parenting means bringing honor to God even in those hard parenting moments.
Aria loves to color and draw and paint.
Noah tells me he loves me several times an hour. He interrupts my tasks to plant sweet kisses on my cheek.
Gideon is creative, active, and curious. He has giant hands. He can make a toy out of anything. He is so happy.
My kids still love me and want to be around me. I may have to fight for moments to be alone, but never for moments to snuggle.
Thank you, God. For reminders to be grateful.
For the purposeful pauses and for the new directions.
For the right perspective.
For trusting me with these children, these precious, chaotic little creations of Yours.
Now. Time to get up and clean the kitchen.