Art Work.

20140306-214449.jpgSometimes, when I sit down and try to write, my thoughts feel insufficient to inspire or advise. There’s peanut butter smeared into my jeans and I washed my hair yesterday, but still haven’t brushed it. This morning, Norah slammed the door as she ran into her room for nap time because her brother went up the stairs faster than she did. Jonah cried, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Moooommmmmyy!!!” repetitively while I was on the phone with a doctor.Β  He wanted to do Thomas the Train Puzzle on my phone. How dare I use my phone!? Oh, and I just went to fill my water cup and found my 60lb dog sprawled out on the couch. Definitely never allowed in our house…. except for when I’m preoccupied, I guess.

So much of #momlife feels like I am continually waddling through the trenches. I wonder if the day will come, that I don’t have to encourage my kids to share or if I’ll ever get to be the spectator andΒ  not the referee when they play catch. How many times do you have to tell a child to have patience or to be thankful for what they have before they get it?

My kids are good kids. They bring me joy every day. They love others and know how to say sorry, they are vibrant and silly, they are respectful and conversational. They paint my heart with the craziest love… and sometimes it feels like the picture is left open for personal interpretation.

In the moments, the ones where I feel like I am in-over-my-head, I wish for the days to pass quickly.Β  I mark the moments with over-done sighs and prayers for God’s wisdom. Yet, now, as my little ones sleep in their beds, I realize that in the moment, I am forgetting about the bigger picture. The picture of this beautiful life, where I have the privilege and ability to soak in every fleeting moment of their lives.

Why did I so easily focus on Norah slamming her door, but I forgot that she worked really hard to help her brother take off his shoes this morning? Or how she prayed for me, out loud, in the middle of Target when I coughed. I so forgot her brother’s tender cuddles and how he went to the art cart this morning, pulled out play-doh and went to sit at the kitchen table all by himself to create his own version of “Frosty.” To be honest, even our dog is something to be thankful for :). Today, she ran around the house, chasing the kids as they giggled in delight. She never nipped them, only forced her cold, wet nose in their ticklish little necks.

I have nothing to complain about. Forgive me for my sighs. I am thankful, very thankful for this beautiful work of modern art we are creating. Not every stroke may be beautiful or purposeful; yet, every stroke adds to the beauty of the canvas.

Someday our lives will hang this masterpiece on the mantel and I’m sure every day (at least I’ve been told) that I will wish I could paint it again.

Now, the laundry needs to be changed and phone calls need to be made before nap time comes to a close. Heaven knows those things don’t get done properly when the little ones are awake πŸ™‚

One thought on “Art Work.

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