Joining Lisa Jo at The Gypsy Mama for:
Wanna just write? Without wondering if it’s just right or not. You’re welcome to play along. The rules are easy.
- Write your heart out for five minutes and show us what you’ve got.
- Tell your readers you’re linking up here and invite them to play along.
- And most importantly, go visit, read, and encourage the fellow five-minuter who linked up right before you.
Today’s prompt is…
Breathe deep and live with just enough light for the step I’m on; fail to look at the baskets of laundry calling me to be folded, put away, hung. Fail to see the dishes in the dishwasher that beckon me to return them to their home in our cupboards and the dog staring at me through our back patio door, longing to join the action. For just one moment, for simply five minutes, allow me to just be, to just write, without the flow of interruptions that number the stars throughout the day of a mama with young children.
I’m learning, I’m trying to accept that interruptions are oftentimes gifts from God – He wants to show us what He’s up to, yes.
It can take 30 minutes to unload those dishes. Or two hours to deal with the laundry. And I listen as people say “Treasure these years, they go so fast” and I see that they do and while I want to stop it I recognize there are also some joyful advantages to having children just a wee bit older.
I hear their harmonic giggles over the hose spigot in the backyard and I watch my middle son investigate that back patio door and “how does it really work anyway?” and I listen to him tell me that “Mama, in the morning, it’s wet outside,” and we talk about dew and I see things I often take for granted through his eyes for the first time.
And while that laundry does eventually have to be folded and put away and the same with their demanding partner, the dishes, for just this moment, while I take a deep breath, I’m going to freeze it in my mind, while they are all three here, under our roof and safe. I’m going to freeze the sweet conversations (“You know, you can pray with your hand your bottom, Mom,” my daughter said today at breakfast and yes, I suppose you can – He’ll still listen, won’t He?) and the long lashes and the fun books and the lazy summer days when we don’t have to worry about picking anyone up.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.