You are more important

Written on Saturday

Jason was gracious to me today. I had more than a rough week, mostly internally. Just kind of a wreck inside. When a mom feels like a wreck inside and also happens to physically not be feeling great, having three children demand various treats at once and alternate endlessly needing instruction, discipline and just basic needs met feels like it might actually kill you. Fast.

So. Jason. Yes, I like starting the next paragraph with “So. Jason.” Because I must say that I don’t know how single moms do this business of raising little kids without having the life-giving intervention of a considerate husband. I salute them. I am burdened for them. I applaud them and if I knew you better personally, I would be your biggest advocate for childcare every time I met an older woman whose kids are grown and she’s painting her nails at home. Not that all of them are painting their nails, let that be noted. I sure hope I don’t “retire” one day, finding myself at home all day, while a future version of you single moms are persevering, exhausting yourselves in the mothering labor of love. I hope I don’t just run out to grab a dark cherry mocha and go straight back home, but instead I march my little serving feet straight to your house to make you take a nap. (By the way, don’t you love that drink? None more than me, for sure.) Wow, that was a big side note. But it’s kind of important in light of my feeling so pooped.

Back to Jason. Yesterday we were talking on the phone and I suddenly remembered he had a Saturday morning commitment, which made me want to die. I don’t think I burst into tears, but that was probably only because my tear tank had already been depleted. I began to despair and then Jason put me square in front of his other commitment. “You are more important.” I think I passed out. I am more important? Did you just win the husband of the year award in my mind? YES. It was going to be my turn to sleep in and then he wanted me to take the rest of the day until we all were supposed to be at an afternoon birthday party. ALL DAY? Can the mamas say, “YEAH!!”

I have written before about not knowing what to do with my free time. It’s a little silly how all over the place I feel at first, but once I set my mind on what to do with myself, I feel a lot freer. Bizarre I know. But as I like to mention, I am a C personality. We like structure. Lots.

I set out for Starbucks but stopped by two stores where I had giftcards. I bought a birthday gift for my mom (you’re going to love it, mom. it’s so you!!) and in one of the stores, I found myself gravitating to the kids section. I thought endlessly of Kanah and Grace and what they would look like in this and that. I bought them each a sun hat, picturing them poolside in a couple of weeks. There were cute little princess t-shirts that caught my eye since Grace’s half of her birthday is going to be “Sleeping Beauty”. But above the picture it said something like “Girls rule” which always creeps me out a little bit, like I’m raising her to be the kind of feminist that’s gone all wrong, so I opted to pass on those. (But I’m still on the lookout for a little bit of a purer version, so if you’ve got some advice…).

So I’m walking around, finding myself in Gymboree just moments later, and suddenly I’ve scrolled through to Jason’s cell, asking him if they are on their way over so I can see them. It’s been like an hour since I’ve left. I miss the kids. Thankfully they’re all dressed and ready and nearly there so I am pacing around, so anxious to love on them. I see them coming from all the way down the hallway. Grace and Salem are in the double stroller and Kanah is doing a prancing run alongside of Jason, her pony swishing wildly all over the place. My kids! I drop on my knees as they turn my direction and stretch my arms wild, crying out, “HI!!!!!!!” and because they didn’t expect me, they first stare blankly at this woman sprawled out before them, but their faces quickly turn into surprised expressions, coupled with cries of “Mommy!!!” Is that the sweetest gift of my life (right up there with this day off)? Yes. No doubt. I hugged them like crazy, like I’d been on a solo road trip for three weeks and never wanted to be gone from them again. Check the stopwatch. It’s only been one hour and thirteen minutes now. I must love this crew.

Now I am finally stationed in Starbucks a little while later, thinking about us running around Gymboree, buying their birthday dresses with matching headbands and swimsuits for our trip. I am enjoying my free time, enjoying thinking about them.

Being a stay at home mom is…wonderfully weary. :). I am always at the end of myself, leaning into the grace of Jesus, and praying out loud continually for God’s strength to be a loving mommy who’s not just making it, but really loving life with them and teaching them well and raising them intentionally into little people who are have beliefs and thoughts and spirits in them. And just being gifted with a couple of hours to re-group and breathe and be a woman apart from being a mom, is such a sweet re-start. And I thought it would take all day. And it took just about an hour.

Thank you, Jason. I feel loved. And freed to love more. Starting at 4:00 :).