I look around the house and my soul feels frantic, my list feels long. I actively give myself permission not to figure everything out today. I'll do the same tomorrow.
They race matchbox cars and roll out pink playdough. They play with marbles and dream of flying. They give plastic dinosaurs life, and their imaginations give them life in return. I see their souls show up on the slate floor in the kitchen, pushing tractors and crashing blocks.
I'm only as busy as I allow myself to be. All the busy-ness feels like a kind of false accounting anyway. There is real value in standing there, being still. Stopping doesn't mean I'm not going to get where I'm going. Sometimes I am actually moving when I think I'm not.
Days of heavy traffic in the dining room are numbered. There's still room next to the snakes on the counter to cook. I stop rocketing through what I perceive needs doing and know that right now is something my future self will want to recall.
I whisper a simple song of gratitude for these busy boys, the best prayer I can offer. I'll do the same tomorrow.
4 comments:
Jenni Baby,
It appears you handle the boys activities pretty much the way Sandy treats me. I've got "crap" in every room of this house. AND...my new 34" remote controlled fishing boat should arrive any day!
My prayer would be that you don't have to "remember" any of their play activity because the T boys, like Peter Pan and me, will never grow up!
L2A
The ramp/track picture was something Vanessa and Zane were doing at the end of last week too -- combining all sorts of tracks and such to see how far across the room things would go and what obstacles were the best. Fun stuff!
I look at this pics and think...I'm there. I'm right there. Except p.s.: I do not do snakes.
I confess; I did not always fully appreciate the time I spent at home with you and your sister.
I love that your pictures capture so many intangibles: curiosity, innovation, exploration, creativity, brotherhood, love!
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