I was made for this.

I’m only a month into this “stay at home Mom” gig, but it’s by far the best job I’ve ever had.  The to-do list I was hoping to conquer by being at home is still about three years long, and growing instead of shrinking, but we came in from swimming in the EZ-set backyard pool the other day, to sit around the dining room table and eat bologna sandwiches.  Between slapping cheese and mustard on our wheat bread, we contemplated what we would do during “quiet time,” the two-hour interlude when the baby takes her nap, and read the day’s message from our paper chain (we made a chain of all the days until school starts, and wrote little messages to ourselves on each link).  My oldest suddenly breaks a grin and says, “You know what?  We would be hanging out alone in the youth room trying to keep the baby happy right now.  I’m so glad we’re here doing this instead!”

I’m sure we would still be grateful, even if I’d been home with the kids straight away from Stork’s first delivery, but having spent so many years juggling work and kids, I think we all are feeling the blessings in a much more profound way.  Life is suddenly measured in all these little moments of weed pulling and bologna sandwiches.  I’ve been able to spend hours at the library choosing books with the kids, then actually sitting down and reading with them.  This week, I was able to take them overnight to visit an aunt and uncle, and see a cousin’s first dance recital.  We’ve painted our nails, planted beans, written letters, and made crafts.  I’ve been able to go days in a row without driving thru anywhere to pick up a lunch or dinner on the run.  And that, that is probably the sweetest blessing – we haven’t had to feel like we were living “on the run.”  Instead of trying to get from one thing to the next, and fulfill our obligations quickly enough to leave a little time at the end for each other, we’ve been able to put it in “park,” and make being with each other our only obligation.  We’re contemplating cancelling swim lessons next week, just to savor more of these precious days, just being together.

Not everyone gets the privilege of staying home with their kids, and I realize not everyone would even desire it, but for me, in this moment, it is absolutely the sweetest blessing in my life.  Now forgive me if today’s confession is a little brief and not especially funny – I’ve got a job to do, after all.  The kids have been watching a movie and it’s high time I turned it off and took them outside.
I could do this job forever, but am all too aware of how brief these days will be.

Don't you see that children are God's best gift?
      the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?
   Like a warrior's fistful of arrows
      are the children of a vigorous youth.
   Oh, how blessed are you parents,
      with your quivers full of children!
   Your enemies don't stand a chance against you;
      you'll sweep them right off your doorstep. Psalm 127:3-5

I need to quit interrupting.

Communication is usually one of my strong suits.  It’s never going to earn me a medal, but I’m the goddess of the drive-thru.  Back when I was taking orders, happy customers repeatedly commented on how remarkably clear and pleasant our loudspeaker interaction had been.  Even today, my husband jokes that it would be better if he could back up to the speaker so I could place our orders from the passenger side, because it would up our odds of getting the food we actually want, and lower his stress levels.

Despite my ability to interact effectively and pleasantly, even without the assistance of visual clues, I’ve been troubled lately by my tendency to interrupt others.  A topic piques my enthusiasm, someone says something intriguing or funny, and, next thing I know, I find myself verbally jumping into conversation gaps that aren’t gaps.  This has probably been going on my whole life, but there are a couple circumstances recently that have made me realize I need to install a governor on my discourse.

First, I’ve had laryngitis.  For the last week or so, speaking has been a labored effort.  It takes so much extra breath to say something with enough clarity and volume to be heard, that when anyone, especially my kids, is inattentive, interrupts, or ignores me, I feel the burden of the added work it takes to repeat myself.  I find myself surrendering my point, rather than repeating something that seems too inconsequential to muster the effort.  It’s made me realize how important it is to be a good listener, to slow down and put more effort into hearing what others have to say.

The challenge of laryngitis has also heightened my sensitivity to a friend of ours for whom speaking is an act of deliberate effort.  I have caught myself interrupting him more than once in the last couple weeks, and it humbles me.  I should already be humble that someone values our friendship enough to work for it like that; I definitely shouldn’t be making him repeat himself by talking over him.

If I’m foolish enough to interrupt in those circumstances, it a guarantee that I’ve been interrupting everyone else, too.  So, if you’re one of my victims, I apologize.  I’m going to work on it.  Maybe flick me on the forehead, if I interrupt you.  That should shut me up.

Anyone who answers without listening is foolish and confused. Proverbs 18:13