- You arrive at church 30 minutes late and take another 30 to lower your raised blood pressure. When you blame your husband for the family’s problem of time and he rolls his eyes because he knows the truth.
- You had such plans, such plans! To write and work and finally put away the Christmas decorations. To organize the garage while you were at it and play with your kids some too. But, instead, your boys scream during lunch and scream during nap time. Both so tired they want you to suffer. And you do.
- You finally get your 3-year-old to sleep in spite of his anger and frustration. You lay down with him to calm him and wake up 45 minutes later angry. There was so much you needed to do during his nap time and instead, you slept. Forget the grace of rest. Today is only about what isn’t given.
- All afternoon you recoil at the nearby smell of sour milk, sniffing your family’s shirts against their skin, complaining about the reek, until you realize it’s your own sweater that needs a scrub, not theirs.
- You dress your 9-month-old for bed in pajamas tagged for an 18 to 24-month-old. And you rock him in the dark and feel him growing in your arms, so fast that your heart nears bursting.
- You pull out the salmon for dinner but it’s still frozen.
- You realize you left the toys in the rain.
- You name your failures in your mind. They name you their leader. You stare each other down. And they win the staring contest.
- You think of Emily Dickinson, those words of hers you’ve repeated to yourself over dishes, how “Forever-is composed of nows,” how “…Months dissolve into further Months- / And Years-exhale in Years-” and you marvel at the truth of those words, this movement of life, these new lines around your eyes.
- The frozen salmon sends your husband out for sushi while the baby rocks to sleep. He and the 3-year-old arrive with just enough time before bed for a promised dance party. Journey sings “Don’t Stop Believin’” and you practice your newest dramatic interpretation skills while your boy is running from the door to your husband, diving beneath him onto the ground. You join him, knees sliding across carpet, rug burn through your yoga pants. And Usher comes on. And you slow dance with your husband for as long as your son will allow. Until the music ends and the boys head toward tooth brushes and stories. Your 3-year-old turns back and runs to you for a hug. “Do you feel better now, Mama?” he asks. And you say, “Yes,” with all your heart. “Do you feel better?” you ask. You are both full of Yes.
- There’s redemption always, even for a bad day. And you eat sushi and watch Downton Abbey and you feel grace near while your sweater flops around the washer.
For a day when…
Filed under Motherhood
Needed this today. What a gift to get first thing in the morning.
You get our Hope Hero award today. Thanks for sharing your day and opening the door to a let a fresh breeze of HOPE fill the house. Turn up the music~ let’s all dance!
Hope on Hope
Love the reality, the honesty & the blessing!
ohhh it is so very good for my soul to know that other people have these days! and not just people: people like micha!
did you read this yet? http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/04/2011-lesson-2-dont-carpe-diem/
This made me smile. I love the slow progression - and I’ve felt it here today too, and the way your live and write these words out casts a shaft of light into a weary day here. Thanks, Micha.
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I thought for a minute you had camera’s in my house and were recording our day on Sunday. “There’s redemption always, even for a bad day.” How often I forget that. Thanks for the reminder.
love this! thank you!
and isn’t amazing how redeeming Downton Abbey can be??
Downton Abbey makes everything better…I feel my day sliding of track when the toddler gets up at the same time as the big kids, leaving me with no quiet coffee/computer time, but “There’s redemption always, even for a bad day.”
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