Thursday, January 6, 2011

crazy "moments"

I am all about soaking in moments.

They bring joy in the journey of motherhood.

But some days it seems the only moments are the crazy ones...not the ones that make time stand still and turn my heart to mush.

There was a day a couple months ago where I actually started writing down the "moments" as they rolled on right in front of me because my "moment" was realizing that wow, life is nuts.

Let's start by setting the stage:

There are five children home from school...all of them with at least one friend traipsing through the kitchen while I cook dinner for us and for a sick pregnant friend I offered to bring dinner to two nights ago but forgot.

The phone is ringing off the hook.

Even if I wanted to answer the phone, (which I don't), I would never be able to find the darn thing because our family has a knack for leaving those cordless things in the wackiest places (the freezer? the pantry? Yep, I've found it there...and the sad thing is that I'm just a guilty as the rest of them).

I just got called as Young Women president and I'm still feeling like I may need to throw up as my mind is wrapped up in trying to figure out how in the world I am going to be able to do this and who in the world I should ask to be my counselors. I'm stressed because they need my decision two hours ago.

Another section of my brain is stressing about finding someone to teach my scouts class rotation for the hundreds of people who will be at Round Table tonight for the calling I have been released from but nobody knows nor has anyone been called to replace me yet. I've already called everyone I can think of with no luck.

Claire is a broken record begging me to help her scrounge up some old fabric scraps so she can decorate a turkey drawing she's supposed to glam up for a school project.

I have located my cell phone when it alerted me to a text, followed by some sort of important phone call and as soon as I answer I have three children suction-cupped to my side thinking that NOW is the time to talk to me about their day.

Elle is getting ready for tennis and is needing something to eat before she goes but is teary-eyed because she's in so much pain from her new elastics the orthodontist stuck on today. I stop and pull out the blender frantically throwing together a smoothie before her carpool comes.

The volleyball carpool has just called saying they have pneumonia and can't drive tonight while I'm supposed to be at book club (and teaching at Round Table if I can't find a replacement).

Dave's 40th birthday is coming up and my mind is partially wrapped around the phone conversation I had earlier with my friend who's husband is also turning 40 and the surprise party we need to get out invites for asap. (The party never actually happened in the end since our friends didn't end up coming to town after all.)

Max is plunking hard on the piano because he's mad (again) that I won't let him quit piano lessons. And he can NOT seem to get that section of that darn song right. My heart sinks because I need to be in there helping him, but I need to be in here too or the sauce will burn, (and I need to be three other places too).

Claire and her friend (having given up on decorating the turkey) run in screaming from the trampoline because they have realized there is a dead bee of all things in Claire's hair.

All this is set to the music of Lucy in one of her awful moods screaming for milk every time I turn around.

And just as the chaos reaches the peak of it's cacophony of noise my phone dings politely with a text from Dave reminding me I need to go vote...which closes in ten minutes.

Do you ever have a single moment that makes you stop and realize how silly it is to be frantically chasing your tail and not really accomplishing anything? For some reason on that day back in November that text in the middle of the swirl of activity was my "moment." It's what made me stop everything and smile to myself. I don't know why, but it made me stop and almost laugh at the prospect of loading up all the kids in the car and rushing over to vote, picturing the guy there closing up the booth saying, "Sorry ma'am, you just missed your chance."

For some reason it made me stop and soak in the fact that I was there. Right where I needed to be. Not really getting to everything I wanted to, but trying my very best and knowing that I was in the right place at the right time. And that the world would go on if I didn't get over to vote, and if I didn't make it to book club, and if other leaders would have to fill in for me at Round Table while I brought my boy to volleyball.

Yes, sometimes the moments that fill up a mother's day don't seem to be so sweet. But if we step back and not take it all quite so seriously we realize that life is good. So very good. And that brings the sweetness into the memories of the craziness.

I love this quote:


"When you are exasperated by interruptions, try to remember that their very frequency may indicate the value of your life. Only people who are full of help and strength are burdened by other persons' needs. The interruptions which we chafe at are the credentials of our indispensability. The greatest condemnation that anybody could incur - and it is a danger to guard against - is to be so independent, so unhelpful, that nobody ever interrupts us, and we are left comfortably alone."

from The Anglican Digest

So I guess those interruptions to what could otherwise be sweet moments can be our "moments" as well. And it all works together to make up the beautiful tapestry of motherhood we are weaving day by day, crazy minute by crazy minute.

In my mind there is nothing quite so good as to be a Mother (except for being a wife, but that's another post for another day). The one who is interrupted the most. And I must cherish those moments of interruptions while they last. Because before I know it these children will grow up and leave off to create their own stories, and I'll be left with just the memories of all those life-enriching interruptions echoing through my house.

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