Around 5:00 this afternoon, this was the scene at our house.
It’s not an atypical mess for this time of day, especially a day that’s included me spending a lot of time on the telephone. I try not to do that often, because the family chaos theory asserts itself, to wit: the more distracted Mommy is, the more chaos the tribe will create, and the larger the resultant cleanup job.
However, I was not cleaning it up.
I was listening to Bugaboo and Beanie giggling on the swings outside, listening to Mr. Man tell me the names of all the shapes on his busy box (yeah, that language delay thing has evaporated over the last week), and blowing raspberries with Baby Guy.
On my first Mother’s Day with a living child, Bugaboo’s daycare sent home a little handprint with a bit of verse glued to it.
“So quiet down, dishes
Dust, go to sleep
I’m rocking my baby
And babies don’t keep.”
Yep. The three who are becoming increasingly independent, to my alternating joy and anguish, are proof of that. I left the mess be and tried to see how many ways I could find to make Baby Guy giggle. Mr. Man decided to come join the fun, and the three of us made a joyful noise in the living room, while Bugaboo and Beanie continued making theirs on the swingset.
Did I mention Mr. Man got a haircut this weekend?
So it took us forever to pick up all the toys. So I have a floor that still needs a scrubbing and dishes and laundry that still need to be washed. I would not trade one moment of this afternoon for the extra hour of sleep.
And, for the record, we read almost all of those books that were scattered on the floor before we put them back on their shelves.
Today’s prayer: Lord, thank You for the wisdom to recognize Your gifts, and the grace to accept them with a glad heart. Help me teach Your blessings that You bestow Your most precious gifts without ribbons, paper, cards, balloons, or fanfare of any kind. You sent Your Son to the humble mess of a stable, and You have blessed our mess of a house with four precious children. Thank You for opening my eyes to the treasure of each moment, even the moments spent scrubbing bananas mixed with potting soil off the foyer floor.