“Watch this…”
And the worst parent in the world award goes to….
Drum roll….
Me.
Thank you, thank you… I try.
And I do try. I promise. I love being a mom. Someone said to me, “Oh my! Starting over with babies in your forties!?!?!?! You know you’ll never retire.”
My response to this is, if parenting is my vocation, by American standards I wouldn’t “retire” for another 20ish years. That’s an entire childhood or four or five. And, retirement is basically a new concept. You don’t find it in the Bible. Imagine you were a Syrian refugee and as you wandered homeless with your children you see an orphan on the side of the road. Her parents are gone. You invite her into your life. It’s the right thing to do. Do you think “Hmmm? This child needs help. But I wonder? How will this affect my retirement?”
“But what about college?”
What about it? First, a lot of children in foster care that are adopted receive state tuition or grants. And, prayer covers everything, even tuition.
Step off soap box. Get into fetal position. Whimper.
Today I am the worst. If this were a paying gig, I’d get fired. The three-year-old has entered into the “Watch this” or in his case “Watch dis mommy!” phase of his life. And he wants me to watch EVERYTHING. He wants me to watch him color, use the potty, get dressed, eat, climb the stairs, watch tv. He just said, “Mommy, watch dis!” And then looked at the tv and opened his eyes really wide. If I don’t “watch dis” he says, “Mommy, yook at me” 4,000 times.
And I lost it.
I get up at 4:30 to write and hang out with Jesus. For whatever reason, this child woke up at 4:15. I get him some crayons and paper. I try not to cry or stomp my feet and whine “THIS IS MY TIME.” But now that I think about it, that might have resonated with him. I get him settled, and I take my coffee, bible, and go to visit with Jesus.
“Mommy! Watch dis! Yook at me cowlor!”
“Mommy! Watch dis! Yook at me watch Elmo!”
“Mommy! Watch dis! Yook at eat my gogooort!”
Holding my bible, in the midst of Jesus, I went knuckle dragging, banana eating, ape snarling crazy. “This is my time! I will deal with you at 7:00! And not a moment before! Now go, eat your yogurt and give me some peace!” And he says, “Mommy watch dis!” and he does his downcast mope into the kitchen. You don’t want to waste excellent mopiness if no one is watching. Heart pounding, I try and recoup what’s left of my time. I don’t understand what he doesn’t understand? He comes back a minute later and says “Mommy watch dis. Yook at me I am putting on my sock.”
I could cry. I bark, “If you don’t do as you’re told, you are not going to Mother’s Day Out today!”
This is a lie.
He could burn down the house and steal my car and the punishment would never be “not going to Mother’s Day Out.” I do want to watch him. Maybe it’s this new season? I watched the first batch and all their tricks – I must admit I miss them asking. Now I catch glimpses of the bigs on social media. I go to a game, or an art show or play…But they don’t beg my attention. Littles in the house; I guess I got used to not having to watch? A few months ago I heard John say, “Luke do you think I can do a handstand on this banister?” and Luke said, “Well, I don’t see why not?” I didn’t have to watch. The sounds that followed and the spray of sheetrock falling from the ceiling were indicative of a 6’4″, 230-pound man-child that could not do a handstand on the banister. I was glad to have missed that.
But a few days later I witnessed those same two in the kitchen, the younger helping the older with his tie. I wanted to watch this… I cherish that I watched.
Sam will be back in just a minute. He’s smart, but he has a really short memory. My time. So little of it… I am sleepy, it is early. But my strength comes from the Lord. The memories I want this boy to have of me are important. Especially because I’ll be 60 when he graduates from high school. I might need him to refresh my memory – or feed me. It is Mother’s Day Out today. I can be alone with Jesus later. The great thing about littles – he really only wants me to hang out with him. Before the baby gets up. Before the morning school rush starts… and that’s not so much to ask.
So I whisper “Jesus” and Sam and I will make pancakes together. I can change courses right now. I can make today good. I can choose joy. I can make a good memory instead of a lousy one. Yes, that is what I will do. I want to do an excellent job.
So I say to you, “Watch this…”
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami
“For the Lord sees not as man sees; man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
I so love your honesty. And your sense of humor.
Our daughter, son in law, and 3 year old granddaughter took a huge leap of faith and moved across country to come home. She applied and got a teaching job on a Thursday, they put all their belongings in storage on Friday and Saturday, he talked to a job recruiter on Thursday, and they left Florida on Sunday arriving in Texas on Monday and her new teacher orientation was on Wednesday. They are living with us (although they sign a contract on a townhome today). I have delighted in their being here but…
Yes, you forget. I taught preschool. How could *I* have forgotten?!?
Watch Dis. I Don’t yike dat. (You did at lunch!). I Can’t. Why? What dat? (Usually followed by another Why?)
Meltdowns. Messes. Spills.
Snuggles and Cuddles. Getting a hug when she walks in the door from playing outside. Having her RUN to me before she heads to her Daideo for a “love” when she’s been at daycare (our grandson has always been Daideo’s boy so I’m revelling in being the favorite for a change). Sharing a Barbie flavored sno-cone (pink and sweet). Frenchbraiding her hair. Listening to her prayers. Teaching her new prayers (God is Good. God is Great, all across the Lone Star State.) Playing “piggies” (This little piggie went to the Ranger Game. This little piggie stayed home. This little piggie had nachos. This little piggie had none. This little piggie say Yay,Yay,Yay, all the way to home plate.)
Yes. You forget. But then when you remember? Your face leaks.
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How wonderful! ❤️ thank you for your honest comments. They mean a lot to me.
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I should have also pointed out that son in law got the job the recruiter pointed him to and he loves it. So they each got the first job they applied for in a different state from where they were living. God is SO GOOD! and we have all our kids and Grands living in the same city for the first time in 5 years.
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That is terrific Kathy! Congratulations!
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Little piggie says not “say”.
Sigh. My fingers are fat and my phone’s keyboard thin.
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I just found you, and I find your life refreshing! My floors tend to be gritty, but my life is blessed beyond my wildest imaginings…partly because my imaginings generally went a different direction than reality..
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Bless you. ❤️
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Precious! I love your heart.
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❤️
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Again. No really, again mommy. I can’t get enough of your writing.
Bless you and the work Jesus is doing in and through you.
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❤️
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You are just fabulous! Everything you write? SOOOOO TRUE! Seriously, we could be twins, though I’m not near as funny! Snarky yes, but probably only funny in my own head 😜 If you write a book I will totally buy it and read it over and over, like the Bible or a classic! Bless you woman, bless you 😇
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Well… Now you’ve done it! I just threw a temper tantrum over this blasted book proposal. Seconds. Ago. Barked at Jesus this isn’t my thing…. 😒
Going back to my office I guess. … Thanks. I think. 😘
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My son turned 26 last Sunday and now “watch dis mommy” has turned into status updates on Facebook. Time moves too fast. The occasional frustrated “why can’t this kid leave me alone for 10 minutes?” eventually turns into “do you think you can come home for dinner Tuesday for your birthday dinner?”
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What mother can’t relate? I remember when my first was about a year old. I’d wake at the crack of dawn to grab quiet time with Jesus. My son was a early riser too and when I heard him call to me (so sweetly and cheerfully) I had a little tantrum and cried, “God, how am I supposed to be spiritual when I can’t even have any time to read my Bible?” Oh my. Did I really just say that? I did. Instant chagrin, an embarrassed chuckle at myself and just as quick repentance. Forty one years later I thank God for that sweet boy-now-man. Yup, they sure grow up fast.
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