Heavy Mom Thoughts

Because I stay at home, I take for granted all of the time I have with our children. It becomes a chore, caring for them, taking time to read or play with them. I have been looking forward to the coming school year with giddy anticipation: Missy in school five days a week, Red in preschool for two days. I even spent half my JBF earnings on two weeks of vacation Bible school. Yes, I want my children to have a fun experience in a Godly setting, but the real draw is 10 days of three hour drop-off.

And then, as is His tendency, God gently smacked me upside the head and gave me a little wake-up call. Three, actually. Because I like to hit the snooze.

Our preschool hosts a camp-out night. The idea is that the parent who has not worked the majority of the time spends a fun evening with the child at school, spending the night in a tent and doing all the typical "camp" activities.

Flag Making

Hot Dog Eating

Zip-Lining

Tent-Pitching

S'more-Eating

Camp-Song-Singing

I over-heard one of the mothers complaining that the dads got the fun part and wishing that she could come camp as well. My first thought was , "Lady, you're crazy," but I think I can sort of see her point. During the typical preschool workday, we're very busy and there isn't much time to interact with your child. The camp situation is rich with "quality" time. In as much as sleeping on the ground and waking up to the 4 am rooster call can be called quality.

But there it is. The taking for granted. This is Missy's last preschool camp out. Those nights are treasured memories and all the more precious because they are with Daddy. I don't begrudge him that time at all, but I feel the need to create some of those memories myself.

I've been reading about my friend Heather's IVF process and how hard they have worked to be blessed with their children. As someone who actually got pregnant while taking birth-control pills, this is eye-opening. These are good parents. They practice the kind of sacrificial love for their children (and each other) that I aspire to. I want to ask why, why this couple who gives their children an amazing life must struggle for each blessing and other families, who could care less, are given child after child, resentful of the intrusion on their life.

Then there are friends at church, who are trying to adopt their young son. He's two now and has been with them since he was six weeks. The birth mother has appealed her parental rights being terminated and so the adoption that should have been finalized a year ago is still undone. My heart breaks for this couple. They adore their son and he is so happy in their care. I'm praying for the courts to rule quickly and in their favor, so that they can rest secure in the safety of their family.

All of this has caused me to wonder why I am so casual about these gifts God has bestowed on me. Are they less precious because they were easily obtained? No, of course not. Still, I have fallen victim to the frustration and business of motherhood. Somewhere along the line, I've forgotten to store up moments in my heart, to be patient and remember that a little more mess while cooking is a fair trade for Missy's sense of accomplishment. That the time spent reading to Red is not better spent doing dishes or laundry. And the chatter that fills every moment with Drama Queen is worth listening to, because she needs my ear and my attention.

I'm a good mom. I know that. But there's always room to improve and I'm ready to start that process.