**We are traveling, and busy, and instead of writing I’m watching my littles ride horses, collect eggs, feed sheep and scare buffalo. Yes, the cries of a girl begging to be carried through a field will scare a buffalo quicker than you can imagine. All this to tell you that today’s post is from more than a year ago (I can hardy believe those were the days of Glennon Doyle’s first book. I’m now on her second, Love Warrior, which is amazing!). So read away dear friends, confident in the knowledge that we never did get that mini-backhoe.
Today I am sick. It is actually the fourth day I’ve been sick, which means tomorrow I should be right as rain. But today, I am tired. And after three days of coughing and a sore throat, my voice has taken a holiday. It’s more than a whisper, but my normal tone and decibel level (the one with the built in exclamation points and audible smiley faces) is gone. For now, anyway. This morning, in an attempt to rest, I gathered a book, snacks and drinks for all, and took the kids outside. I brought a chair into the shade and after swinging the kids for what I thought was an appropriate amount of time for a “good mom” I told the kids I was going to read for a bit in the shade and they could play together. After two pages they’d brought chairs of their own and joined me, taking sips of my tea and offering to read me pages of my book (Glennon Doyle would be so impressed at how they translated her gorgeous pages into toddler-ese). Before long I put the book down and instead chatted with my little ones.
I talked with my darling boy about why it might be impractical to buy a mini-backhoe and a bobcat of our own, and like any Mama might, told him to ask Daddy when he got home. I talked with my sweet girl about the tomato plants and her swing. I watched them fight over the toy lawnmower and didn’t intervene, in part, because my voice simply couldn’t match their decibel and they never would have heard a word I said. And when they asked me if I would push them on the swings, I said yes. Not with resignation because I was tired and sick, but with an uplifted heart because an hour outside in the sunshine had lifted my spirits, if nothing else. As I pushed them, first at the same time, and then one after the other, I had THAT MOMENT. You know, the “Mommy Moment.” The moment you recognize, even while it is happening, that it is magical. It was quiet outside, except for the birds chirping, it was warm and sunny with the perfect amount of humidity, and as I pushed the kids the silence was punctuated with giggles and screams of, “Higher Mommy, higher!” My heart swelled because in the midst of feeling sick I also felt perfection. I began to wonder how many more of those moments I would have if I allowed more quiet, on my part.
Mamas, we get busy. It seems we always have much to do and never enough time to do it. But in the midst of what can feel like chaotic days, finding time for quiet is important, because that’s when we often find the magic. So make some tea and enjoy the quiet. Then wait for it, for there is always magic when we are open to its possibility.