Life reflections and sneezing.
I've slept fitfully for two nights. I don't know why I was so stressed out about making table decor for only three tables at the Father's Day Breakfast at church. I've done table decor. I've been to breakfasts at church. I know its low stress. But I had to stress...had to wow, I guess. But I wasn't wowed. I dreamed of lists, not my own. And of tire siping. Don't ask.
It rained and I wanted to feel better and paint a chair, or some lamps. My husband let me off the hook for Father's Day dinner, since we have 87,000 leftovers and have gone to lunch with our Pastors' families and a wonderful speaker and his wife. We have leftovers from that too. So my mind drifted to paint, and making my home my own instead of just walls.
What I find interesting is that when we moved in, we nested. We waiting for our baby to come by painting our walls a lovely moss green. I loved it. I had dreamed of a moss green and plum front room in my tiny apartment. And here, my new husband and soon to be father was making that come true. Then, we lived with that decision for twelve years. We got a new couch and new carpet, but the walls and general decor remained the same.
Finally, my children do not need my every waking moment. Finally, they can get themselves a bowl of cereal, or one can even make macaroni and cheese, or brownies. They can all do homework while I work in the kitchen, and I, can finally have a complete thought. Most of the time.
God had been good to me. Keeping me out of trouble and giving me the people in my life when I needed them most. I've always seen His hand in my life. I might not have been the most willing of his sheep, but He didn't give up.
And now, twelve years into this new life of dishes, homework, laundry and shuttling I am able to bless my family by making their world, home, and life a little more pleasant. I envy those young women in some ways, their homes are clean; no stepping on legos or earrings in the night. No nightly wakings to tell you that their dad's snoring is too loud, when you've already moved to the couch for just such a reason. But they don't yet have what I do. I have heads on my shoulders during church, I have snugly nap times after church. I have budding musicians, artists and authors. And I want to make them all happy. Its time. Time to focus on this life with out the blur that was early motherhood.
My poor hubs. He's not good with change. As are most of the men in my life. He won't like it when I do this
to our bedroom. Or when I take apart our daughters' beds while they are at camp. He won't like it when I use the air compressor, or call with questions. He's busy. I get it, and its change. No change for him, one year. I've already made him paint our great room wall red. What more could I want!? And I'm completely OK with change and transitional phases. Completely OK with lazy days of nothing, like today. He doesn't even want to me to paint this fifty year old rocking chair! (Won't it be great!?!?!)
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