There are a lot of boxes in my front hallway. We took some boxes to UPS the other day and Tom (the UPS guy) said, "I saw that you got 40 boxes of padded envelopes delivered to your house this morning." "You know where I live?" I replied flabbergastedly. "Yes," he said, "At this computer, I've got my fingers on the pulse of this town." He probably knows about my penchant for buying $.75 books on half.com. I guess it isn't too bad since I know his name and quite a bit about him. I also know most of the workers at the post office, but I don't think they know where I live.
Ibby is doing better. She started to cry on Tuesday morning, but recovered before getting to the school. Wednesday we talked a lot about her happy face and as she got out of the car she said, "Won't my teacher be glad to see my happy face this morning?" Yes, I am sure that she will.
During a Sunday lesson, someone read this quote by Anna Quindlen that I have read before:
There’s one picture of my three children sitting on the grass on a quilt in the shadow of a swing, set on a summer day ages 6, 4 and 1, and I wish I could remember what we ate and what we talked about and how they sounded and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing; dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more, and the getting it done a little less.
Fine. It is totally sweet and it even brought out some tears. However, the more I thought about it the more dismayed I became. It is hard enough for me to get dinner on the table and everyone in bed at a reasonable hour without someone trying to make me feel bad about it! You still have to get it all done! Okay, that is just a rant because I feel the bittersweet-ness of motherhood intensely lately. I miss my kids while they are at school, but then don't enjoy the post-school transition time very much. I don't remember so much of their baby time. The baby I do have changes every day and I know that he will be leaving for a mission soon. Cry, cry, cry.
Bon Anniversaire.
1 comment:
What's in all the boxes?
It's a comfort to know that someone else struggles with missing the kids, but feeling dismayed at how stressful the adjustment to them coming home can be. And I know what you mean about the quote. I've thought about it a lot, and come to my conclusion that we can't have every day be one that we remember and savor every moment of, but we can be aware of the importance of savoring and remembering. And be aware of the importance of slowing down and enjoying what really matters. I like to try to make an imprint in my mind of a moment in time with my children...what they are wearing, how their voices sound, how they look when they smile, etc. If I have occasional days that I can do that, I feel I am headed in the right direction. I hope. At least I tell myself that.... And one thing I learned during Gracie's pregnancy is that so much of what I thought had be done really didn't. But some does.
I enjoy your blog so much!
Are you going to Time Out?
Post a Comment