Last night, it hit me. I have allowed blogging to sit on the back burner in the name of productivity. For the past year or so, blogging has seemed like an "extra" to be enjoyed only after all the other things on the list are complete.
The only trouble is, the list is never all checked off. Thus, this little window for creatively capturing the moments of our family's life has been temporarily shut.
Not any more.
I choose to document our story on a regular basis again, because I want to remember these days. Even if the laundry sits a little longer, and the dishes need to be loaded...I am going to write.
We are in the throes of life with two little boys. They are no longer babies or toddlers or preschoolers. They are seven years old and five years old. They take their own showers. They ride their own bikes. They swing their own bats. They wire their own electronics. They want to bandage their own scrapes, and get mad when they can't quite reach their elbows. They even prepare their own toast and cereal. Starting tomorrow, they will paddle their own kayak.
And I wonder, what in the world do they need me for, now that they can do so much all by themselves?
When one is in such a responsible hurry to get to school on time that he forgets his lunch, he needs me to go back home for the lunchbox, and bring it to him. After all, he NEVER gets hot lunch, and this late in the school year, that kind of change would be a big deal for someone who loves routine. And he needs me to say I'm sorry for being grumpy about it, and to tell him it's okay - we all forget things sometimes.
He needs me to draw the hopscotch squares in the driveway and teach him how to play the way I used to so many years ago. He needs me to eat lunch on the porch for fun, and see who has the most juice left in the plastic popsicle bag after we're done slurping them. He needs me to show him how to form the letter "b." After all, I've had 31 years of practice, and he's a beginner.
He needs me to sit on the deck and watch him swing. And pretend to go camping and follow him around the yard while he still pushes the yellow truck along the beaten path. He needs me to climb up in the playhouse and sit in the safest corner so I don't have to worry about falling out - he'll take the dangerous spot and protect me.
He needs me to shoot hoops and toss baseballs and plan kayak races. He needs me to see the hits and t-ball plays he makes. And he would love for me to teach him exactly how to blow a bubble with gum.
He needs me to listen as he performs his lines in the upcoming first grade musical, because he is the narrator and he has them all perfectly memorized. And he needs me to show him how to look up the stories we read in the storybook Bible in his real Bible to know exactly what it says.
So, although they are no longer small enough to fit in my arms or on my hip, they still definitely fit in my heart. And they are quite nice to cuddle with after their showers, all fresh and clean in their Spiderman and Superman pajamas.
