As we drove to church I glanced at the clock. Late as usual. Why is it so hard to get in the car and out of the driveway on time?
I didn’t care though. I was just so happy to have all my men in the car for the third Sunday in a row now. That’s like a record for us! So we’d miss the awkward handshakes. Big deal.
The boys began to bicker in the backseat. Their usual back and forth gets under my skin, but Sunday was different.
My heart was filled with so much love and gratitude over being their mom that there wasn’t anyway they could possibly irritate me.
I tuned out the bickering and entered my own little out the window daydream. The noise, now muffled by my own thoughts, seemed to fade away.
I thought about how thankful I am for these boys. All of them.
I thought about how much they’ve grown, how much they’ve accomplished this year, and how much they bless me. Every day.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you.
I tuned back into the sound of their voices. One now so low it he sounds like my husband if I’m not fully paying attention. The other, still the sound of a little boy. A little boy at warp speed, I might add.
Where does the time go?
Thank you for making me their mom, Lord. Thank you for giving them to me. Thank you.
The bickering still in full force, I glance over at my husband and we share a smile as he reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh. For one second, it’s just us and I think about how it really will be just us one day.
Lord, please slow this life down.
As we pulled in the parking lot, I was comforted by a few other families that seemed to be strangling in at the last possible minute too.
When we walked in the lobby was empty, as everyone (on time) was already inside. We were stopped by a sweet lady inviting us to take a Mother’s Day picture.
I looked over at their cute set up for the moms and then back at my husband with a questioning look.
Nobody scoffed at the idea like they usually would. Everyone smiled and looked in the same direction.
It was 10:25 am and my day could have ended right then and there and I would have been happy.
The rest of the day was filled with everything simple and ordinary that I love.
A run on the treadmill without interruption.
A quiet moment to read on the front porch.
Presents I don’t need but thoroughly enjoy opening.
We loaded up the car and headed to the beach in the afternoon.
The surfing lessons I’d asked my husband for were replaced with clouds, choppy water, and an overcrowded beach.
It wasn’t long before this local family decided to pack up and head back home. We could walk down later without the crowd and I was not interested in trying to get in the water without the sun out to warm me up.
I wasn’t disappointed.
I was grateful.
For every moment.
Even those that turned out differently than my expectations.
As we drove home there was no bickering.
The boys were squished together in the backseat to make room for all the beach stuff we didn’t use, and I caught a glimpse of my youngest with his head rested on his big brother’s shoulder.
Thank you, Lord.
I’m wiping pee crust from the toilet.
“Sorry about the beach, mom.”, my youngest hollers out to me from his game of Minecraft at my desk nearby.
I laugh to myself at the timing of his thoughtful comment. I’m moved that he’s still thinking of me even when he’s lost in his own little world.
I give the toilet one final wipe with a smile bigger than one I’ve had in weeks.
I walk over with my rag in hand to kiss the top of his head. He is unaware of my chore.
“I hope you had a nice Mother’s Day”, he adds.
I did, baby. I did.
Thank you, Lord.
I needed Mother’s Day this year. I needed it to remind me of just how awesome it is to be a mom. To live this life. To have these kids. To wipe the pee crust from the toilet. Again.
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