Sunday, September 21, 2008

Sweet sweet boys

Last week I went out with a friend one night. I always feel a little sad on those nights, coming home to a house in which strange things have happened. I who usually know every event intimately, know every accomplishment and failing. The boys got ready for bed without me.

There's the Spiderman costume on the floor in the living room - I guess they played superheroes. And here's a goopey bowl on the dining room table, ice cream perhaps? Little clues they leave behind, so I can guess at what they do in my absence.

That night, as I tidied the bathroom, I saw this little glove on the counter. A friend gave us a random Bag of Fun, including matchbox cars and a batting glove. My boys don't know what a batting glove is. Their parents are ignorant in regards to team sports, and prefer to spend time running or surfing. But Thomas has been wearing this glove daily, almost all day, over his cute little nail-bitten hand.

I turned the glove inside out and spread it on the counter to dry. How long will I have a little three-year-old in my house? leaving little three-year-old things about? How long will he come out of his room after his nap saying, "I just want someone to hold me."? When will he stop begging for "short pants", as opposed to his "regulars" ?

This evening I began to wonder why I so often look on the boys as a job, rather than a joy. "No, don't do that." "Please get in your room like I asked you to." "Don't jump off of that." "Why aren't you listening?" "Sit DOWN in your chair." I may speak softly, but there is an underlying tone of tried patience. My general outlook on parenthood is that I'm priviledged to be in charge of these children, but do I show that to them? That I'm excited to be here with them every day? That I can't think of one thing I'd rather do?

It's easy for me to get weighted down with my daily tasks. Get the laundry done, food on the table, food off the table, dishes in the dishwasher, kiddoes cleaned and dressed, out to play, house cleaned, baby fed, baby changed. But I've got to be able to enjoy this time I'm given. Because I know that little batting glove isn't going to be sitting on the bathroom counter much longer, and I'm going to miss it when it's gone.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh bother...the sighs of a young mom...no worries...it goes from batting gloves to ipods...from Power Rangers to iphones ...Winnie the Pooh to Chemistry...the stuff is still around on the table. The boys mature but your love grows more and more. I have a plaque that reads.."From son up to son down a mom never rests." You will learn to pick your battles...does this room really need to be picked up now or can I finger paint with them instead?? We need to eat...can I do 2 meals in 1 night and save time so tomorrow I can learn something about them?? You are a great mom...I have seen you in action...keep up the good job!!
Susan Johnson aka 102 Cardinal Road

joysnatcher said...

Thanks for the encouragement,Susan. It's good to hear from someone with more experience (and a positive outlook!)

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