I was headed out the door to the grocery store for a few ingredients for a last minute chili party I decided to host from my parents and siblings. I threw on my shoe only to trip and fall directly into my kids' open sensory bin of dry pasta. URGGGH! The kids were upstairs with my husband so I couldn't exactly blame them. I should have put the lid on the bin when I herded them all upstairs for bath time this morning. I should have been paying more attention to what I was doing. I should have just slowed down because there was no real reason to rush to Walmart at 10 a.m. on a Sunday morning anyways. But I'm imperfect and a little bit of a hot head. I was all queued up to holler about how no one else cleans up but me. I was all ready to vacuum up the noodles and be done with the bin for good. But I didn't. There's something oddly humbling about picking up nearly four pounds of dry pasta on my hands and knees on the kitchen floor by myself that calmed my heart and my temper. I knew it wasn't anyone's fault. It surely wasn't the end of the world. The pasta is back in its bin. (I even crazily bought them another box today at the store because it brings them so much joy!) No one was hurt in my noodle spill. It gave me a good chuckle and a needed reminder to slow down. As I put handfuls of elbow noodles and bowties back in the bin, I thought of all the hours my kids have spent in this beloved and so simple bin. The feel of dry pasta between my fingers was oddly calming. I heard little footsteps on the stairs before I was even a quarter of the way done cleaning. I was ready to yell "Stay clear. Don't come out here." But my three year old wandered up and asked if he could help. Of course, I said "yes." He got out his favorite diggers and utensils to help clean my pasta mess! Pretty soon my husband and our one year old were all down on the floor cleaning up the noodles. Honestly, it was pretty fun. It was like one big family sensory bin!
Such a simple spill brought so much joy to me this morning because I was in the moment, down on the floor, and spending quality time with my kids. I was enjoying their observations, wacky ideas, and questionable cleaning methods. Dear God, Remind me to get down more often on the floor and play with my kids. They won't be this little for long. I don't want to miss a moment. I know I get caught up in the day to day chores and hustle. I forget to enjoy my kids' littleness and curiosity. I forget to be present with them. Give me the wisdom to know what's important and what can wait. Amen.
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Balance is important, but it's near impossible to achieve. Balancing the amount of time I spend with my two children individually, then balancing that with the quality time I spend with my husband. If I'm feeling really crazy, maybe I would try to balance that with the time I should spend for myself. Y-I-K-E-S. Just talking about all of that balancing seems difficult, I can't even imagine perfecting it in real life. I know I haven't yet. I can feel it almost daily. There's the mom guilt from spending more time with my one year old still nursing daughter than my rather independent three year old. He doesn't physically cling to me like she does so by default we spend less time together. After spending all two with two tots, my husband probably feels like he comes home to a touched-out mute. I'll admit sometimes I'm snappy. I don't want to be asked questions or make decisions because I've been doing it all day for three people. I just need a little silence and a little space. I pray he doesn't take it personally because it's not. When it comes to myself, I know there's no balance. I'm a mom and by default I put my family first all of the time. I don't mean to place myself last in a neglectful way. It's just a hazard of the job. I should spend 30 minutes in the bath, but when I go up to grab a towel I see a load of laundry that I should throw in so I do that. After that's done, I pass through the kitchen and see that there are dishes in the sink. It's a pet peeve of mine so for my own sanity, I do them. I won't have to see them later. (I probably will end up seeing new dishes there because I live with two toddlers. There are a whole lot of snacks and a whole lot of sippy cups used all of the time.) One distraction or chore follows another and before I know it that thirty minutes I planned to spend in the bath tub has passed. Of course it's not physically scheduled and I could just take a bath now, but I won't. I'll brush it off and opt to shower before the kids go to bed. Before I know it, I'm struggling to get the ever sleep resistant one year old down to bed. I'm exhausted, drained, and frustrated. There's no balance. There wasn't even a genuine attempt, was there? I am a better mom when I take care of me. Whether I spend 5 minutes reading my Bible in the morning or 30 minutes in the bath with a good book at night. Maybe I'll watch a favorite show during my kids' nap time. The point is I'm doing something just me and for me because I'm not just my kids' mom. I'm a person who needs to take care of my family, my house, and yes MYSELF.
I'll probably never achieve a perfect balance no matter how great or how awful my organization is. I can schedule minutes or hours for myself, but will they actually happen all the time? Not a chance. Life happens. Kids happen. I refuse to count the minutes of quality time I spend with each of my children to make sure it's exactly the same. That's just ridiculous. I am trying to beat myself up less. It's a work in progress, heck so am I! One day, maybe, right? No matter how much effort we put into one area, we're probably always going to feel like we're slacking somewhere else. And why? We're all just doing the best we can. |
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Megan is a stay-at-home mom to a stubborn and charming toddler and adorable baby girl. She is a freelance writer who hasn't slept in way too long.. She survives off of the pot of coffee her wonderful husband makes her FRESH each morning and any snack she can grab while keeping up with her little ones. Archives
October 2019
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