I have about as much energy as a slug does. This weekend had some really wonderful things in it--a fun, fun, fun lunch with friends yesterday, a church service that was pivotal for our boys last evening, etc.--but today I find myself drained, wishing I had a cave to crawl into. I also find myself wishing that--get this--Tobin would be more of a couch potato! The dear boy does not enjoy sitting and watching movies; they hold his attention for all of about one minute before he's off to the next adventure. On days like today when I've been interacting with one or two or three or four boys all day long and would be so glad for a break before the supper hour, it surely would be nice to set him up in front of our computer with Josiah and David and pop in a DVD that would keep them quietly entertained for a while. If only he was more of a zombie! :) But no, he wants to hang out with me...and touch the dishes I'm loading into the dishwasher, and say "dirty? dirty?" over and over...and bring the push toy lawnmower into the house from the porch and zoom around making whirring noises...and help me with the laundry by putting in the soap and pushing down the clothes with our laundry stick and asking me "Shav's pants?" and "Mommy's shirt?" and "David's socks?" as I put in various items of clothing..and ask "Daddy home?" every time he hears traffic noise outside...and put his sippy cup of milk into the outside pocket of the diaper bag and then fuss for me to help him when he can't get the zipper zipped and then fuss for me to help him when he can't get it unzipped...and practice holding up two fingers and saying "two" (which sounds more like "do") when I ask him how old he is (a first for him today). I can't believe I'm actually in the situation of wanting my son to watch more movies, but that's where I'm at today!
These lines from Elisabeth Elliot (from A Lamp Unto My Feet) encourage me:
We like things to go smoothly and as planned. Very often, unexpected things intervene, and our plans go awry. We think we've got "problems." There is another level at which everything that happens is being engineered. "God has no problems," Corrie ten Boom said, "only plans." When ours are interrupted, his are not. His plans are proceeding exactly as scheduled, moving us always (including those minutes or hours or years which seem most useless or wasted or unendurable) "toward the goal of true maturity" (Rom. 12:2 JBP). Believe God. Turn the interruptions over to him. He is at the controls.
On a lighter, brighter note...I've been noticing recently how colorful Shav's toys are. Whether they're strewn about the rug or collected in his basket, there is a certain beauty (maybe that's not the right word - attractiveness? appeal?) to them if I pause long enough to see it.
And there's certainly beauty/attractiveness/appeal/all of that good stuff when I look at him!
Now I'm off to go clean up the kitchen a bit, then make my way upstairs to check on the boys. I think I'll give Tobin an extra kiss tonight. My busy, busy boy.
3 comments:
Whew! I know that stage so well, and I think it is the toughest one. Hannah isn't in it like that any more, but she still often prefers to be where I'm at and doing what I'm doing. Paul is content to play alone or with Hannah and do his own thing, unless I'm doing something interesting, like rolling out pie dough or making bread. Hang in there! (That's one of the stages I'm dreading with our next one, and I shouldn't be. I need grace to see the joys and bright sides even when I'm feeling suffocated.)
Oh Davene - I completely relate to where you're coming from! My entire mornings are spent with little boys right by my side. Everything I'm doing they want to do. They're content to play alone for a few minutes, but they'd prefer that I'd be in the room with them! By the time nap time comes though I am tired and ready to veg out and read blogs, so nothing much seems to get accomplished these days!
By the way...I LOVE your fancy photography with Shav! Great job!
Love Elisabeth Elliot's quote; I needed that today. And love the pictures, too, Davene. Colorful and creative, both.
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