Reflections

I'm not sure that I really have that much to say, but I just feel this inner urge to spill my thoughts, or at least dabble at them.

Yesterday, I thought Matthew hadn't made it home after getting off the bus. For about 15 minutes or so, I had no idea where he was. In those 15 minutes, which felt like an eternity, I supplicated to Heavenly Father in my heart. I pled with him to keep my Teus safe. I contemplated what it would be like to be one of those parents who has a child taken from them. I didn't panic and I didn't let my thoughts go further than that. I remained calm and put off all the things that could be done to harm a child. Instead, I thought about faith and prayer. I felt peace and when I found him hiding in the backyard, I ran for him, and I wept. Again, I supplicated to the Lord--this time gratitude for my little lost lamb.

These thoughts turned to thoughts of what Heavenly Father must feel for us when we stray and make bad decisions. How He yearns for us to return to the path and come back to Him. My vision of parenting is so limited; yet, I learn lessons each day. He teaches me through my children and the experiences we encounter. He teaches me as I watch my little garden grow.

Yesterday, I shared a picnic outside with Davey on the stones by our flowerbed. It consisted of peanut butter and jelly, some Pringles (a first for David--maybe a second. I never buy these), an apple, and an oatmeal cookie (a Little Debbie--another first). He has that serious and grumpy look so often when he is concentrating on his eating. Again, my mind turned to various reflections while we ate.

I began thinking about the blessing it is to stay home with my kids. It is difficult and sometimes, I cry. But it is so happy and joyful too. I just did our taxes for 2010 last night. Compared to most people, we don't make that much money. Yet, we are blessed to be able to make it work so that I can stay home with my little chickies. This is a rare gift indeed. I'm so blessed to have a husband that sacrifices so much in order to keep me home. Yesterday, I accomplished practically nothing. If you had come by, you would have noticed the whopping pile of laundry on my couch, unpacked suitcase from our weekend travels to Dallas, sand sprinkled throughout my family room floor, dishes piled high, spilled colorful cheerios all over the kitchen floor, random bits of cut-up paper from homemade kites and rockets by Matthew, puzzle pieces, and more.

But you would have also found one blissful mother, basking in the sunshine with her littles, dirt on our hands from a little bit of work in the garden, worn bikes from a short ride (since I forgot the boys lost riding privileges), and you would have heard various conversations about "when I become a dad, I will drive a car" and "I'm tough even when I get a scrape" or "I love that pizza, Mom, but I don't like the pepperoni" and endless giggles from tickles during tuck-in time. You would have seen a mother, who felt so needed and loved by her little men. You would have smelled and tasted a delicious homemade pizza crust, topped with a not-so-tasty homemade pizza sauce (not a new recipe we will keep around), and you would have felt soft, soft skin, as you kissed six perfectly satin cheeks good night.

And then, you would have witnessed a miracle, as this mother felt complete and recharged, ready to do it all over again today. Who knew we were capable of so much love and life.

Ethan is almost walking and he's so pleased with himself. He pushes his walker through the kitchen and family room, grinning as he goes. He giggles and sucks his little thumb. He hugs and cuddles me. Sometimes, he kisses me. Oh, I am one lucky mama.

In the words of D'Lonna, "I wouldn't trade any of my boys for all the girls in the world."