Good Friday

Today is Good Friday.

 

Today we remember what Jesus did for us. What it meant and still means today.

 

I did a lot of remembering today.

 

I'm sick. Again. And although I'm not nearly as sick as I was in early February, I still feel congested and exhausted and stuffy and headachy and exhausted and fevery and exhausted.

And I have these two 4 year olds.

Make no mistake, they are adorable, hilarious, beautiful, kind-hearted 4 year olds. But they are still 4 year olds. And they keep needing things. All day long.

 

And today I could barely take it. They just were incapable of leaving me alone for more than 14 consecutive seconds, and in combination with the sinus pressure I really worried my head might explode.

 

 

When lunch was finally over and Quiet Time was about to begin, I felt myself getting more and more desperate for my bed. For some quiet.

 

Before I left their room, I reminded them that Momma did not feel well, and told them I was going to try and nap while they were in there. I prompted them to recite the Quiet Time rules...stay in our beds, be quiet, don't mess with the curtains...made sure they each had enough books to look through to pass the time if they didn't nap, closed their door, walked the five paces to my bed and crashed on top of it.

 

I laid there for a minute and listened.

I could hear them in there whispering to each other.

I took a deep breath and prayed they wouldn't require an intervention to be reminded of the rules. I had no patience or discipline left in me.

 

Can't they just shut up for five minutes?!?!

 

(Don't judge me. If you're a mother of multiple young ones and never once let your mind think along those lines-congratulations. Your Gold Star is in the mail.)

 

I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. I prayed for grace.

 

And it worked...

 

My mind wandered back to a time in my life where I could rest easily. Where illness was annoying, but recovery came easier. If I didn't want to talk, or fill any snack cups with Goldfish crackers, I didn't have to.

My Pre-Momma life.

 

Back then if I was sick, I'd call into work, turn off my cell phone, and crawl into bed to sleep until whenever I happened to wake up. Everyone else I lived with was self-sufficient and needed nothing from me.

It sure was easier to be sick back then.

It was much, much quieter.

(And cleaner) 

 

The quiet.

That's right...it was often very, very quiet around here...I remember...

Oh how I remember the quiet when I'd come home from visiting friends with little ones. Or on Christmas morning, when it was just Dave and I and the pets and we'd hoped that that was gonna be the Christmas we finally had a baby. Or when I'd sit on my living room floor and wrap gifts for another baby shower. Or when I looked down at another negative pregnancy test.

I hated the quiet.

I longed for a crying, messy, fussy, baby to hold.

For years, my heart ached in the quiet.

 

And one day we learned we were having two babies.

And it's rarely been quiet since.

(or clean)

 

Today I began to smile as I laid in my bed - exhausted - and listened to my babies whisper to each other in their room. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I could tell they were having fun together, while still trying to obey the rules.

And my heart swelled.

I'm so grateful for the noise around here, even if it makes a sinus infection harder to handle.

 

Today I give thanks for so many things in my life.