There are peals of laughter drifting in from the living room followed by squeals and the patter of little footsteps. I know this is going to end badly, with something broke or someone crying, but I can’t help myself to enjoy the sound of my children enjoying each other. Nothing makes my heart gladder.
Mothering is not always filled with moments like these. It is usually the mundane of cooking, cleaning, wiping, teaching, disciplining . . . but enjoying; now that makes it all worthwhile.
Last night we played a game of sardines as a family (hide and seek, but you hide with the person when you find them). I was hiding with Levi waiting for the others to find us and he was so excited. He had his little Paw Patrol doggies with us. They were hiding too. He was whispering to them and giggling and wiggling so it didn’t take long for the others to find us; but it was the highlight of my night, lying next to my squirmy, joyful child while the rest of the family slowly piled on top of us.
Later that night Brock said what a great day it was today. I asked him what made it great, expecting to hear a play by play of the football game at recess but instead he said, “Just that game of sardines. I love family night.”
Such simple gestures, yet they really make a difference to our babies. I wonder someday what my children will remember about their childhood. Unfortunately, I cannot control that completely. There have been vacations or outings that Ken and I have planned and spent a lot of money on, that they may never remember, but instead remember a family game. I know cannot erase the times I was frustrated or impatient. I cannot undo the times I was distracted about something stupid and missed out on something they were saying or doing. I cannot make up for all my weaknesses as a mom, and they may remember that.
But I can play sardines. I can chase them around the house. I can dance with them before bed. I can read another story. I can snuggle with them and listen to them talk about their day. I can talk to them about Jesus and His love for them. I can pray with them.
And today I will.
These are the little sacrifices that they just might remember someday, so I will try to remember to do them!
Boys in trees
“Remember when the sound of little feet,
was the music we danced to week to week?”
– Alan Jackson