Some days are for cloud watching with a blanket on the freshly cut spring grass. This is what matters most when you’re spending time with a four-year-old and a toddler.
There’s laundry sorted into lumpy piles, waiting for someone to toss it into the washing machine. I’m that someone. One load down…a few more waiting for the plunge. Why must five people wear so many clothes?!
But there’s this tree house and these children: a preschooler and a toddler who want Mommy to climb up the ladder and pretend with them. Laundry will have to wait because these are the moments memories are made of. There is a time for housekeeping and a time for playing outside. I heard someone say once,
“Children are the most important work.”
While we play in the tree house {and I will the wooden boards to please not crumble beneath me}, there is laughing and singing and the occasional correcting of grammar.
“Funner is not a word, Buddy. Say that again with the words ‘more fun.'”
The repetive line from my education classes repeats in my mind. “Children learn best through play.” I would have to agree with Mr. Piaget and Miss Maria Montesorri. Learning truly happens when we stop to watch clouds, kick off our shoes, run through the grass, and throw a frisbee. Learning happens through the correcting and discipline of rowdy brothers during playtime. Learning happens when we spend this slow and happy time together and what one thing do I really need my little guys to remember for eternity, anyway?
I need them to learn that they are loved unconditionally by a Mommy who is being refined by grace because she is loved unconditionally by a Savior.
Laundry can’t be ignored every day. I know this. I’ve tried that before and it doesn’t end well, friends. I’ll get back to it. I can always get back to other things. Today, we are stopping life to watch the clouds together. We are pausing the normal routine for a picnic lunch outside. The littles can lay down later to nap today…after they’ve been scrubbed of the outside grass and dirt in a mid-day bath. Other work will run behind and get caught up on. I think. Maybe…maybe I will catch up. My most important work is teaching the love of a family, showing the love of the Savior, and training the littles to love and serve others.
One day this nest will be empty. No one will ask me to climb up in a tree house. I will be thankful for the time that I did join them (and mercy…the silly thing held together) to sing “This is the Day that the Lord has Made.” They will remember these moments. I am completely certain of this.
How can I be so sure? I have a mom, now an empty nester, who was diligent and consistent to pause her other work to invest time in the MOST important work. My brother and I are thankful. We did learn the critical life lessons from my parents. My mom and dad were rockstars at enjoying our childhood. My brother and I know the love of family. We are firmly planted in the love of Jesus. Our hearts long to serve others so that they can know the love of the Savior and share in the eternal hope we have in Him.
And here is another piece of really great news! I was at my mom’s house just the other day. It appears that she keeps up on the laundry just fine! (Praise the Lord! A time will come when my people will do their own laundry…or their wives may take on that chore, perhaps…because the invitation to live in my house will expire one day.) I’ll be caught up on the laundry for just the two of us: the handsome music guy and myself. (We change clothes waaaay less frequently than those younger members of our family that enjoy the too-often mud puddles and prefer to wear their spaghetti.) Empty nesters do seem to catch up, you know. They do all of the laundry and have kitchens that stay clean after dinner is done. No one spills crackers in their kitchen floors…unless the grandchildren visit, of course. I hear that I will strangely miss cracker crumbs one day…yeah, I can’t quite comprehend this idea of missing cracker crumbs but I believe you and your wisdom, dear Empty Nesters.
Sure, I’ll fold laundry during naptime today. It will get done-ish. I’ll find time to make our house sparkly-ish, too. I guarantee that tomorrow, it will even smell like cleaning products–lemony and fresh. {I’d be especially delighted if the house would stay that lemony and shiny-ish for at least twenty minutes.} That doesn’t have to happen in this moment, though. It is secondary. My most important work is a picnic on a blanket and deciding how exactly that cloud looks like an elephant. He says it does. I’ll roll with that. We’re learning about the things that will anchor them firmly. We are making memories that will teach them to be good daddies one day. And just what could be more important than raising little men into God-honoring grown men, I ask?
May your weekend be full of moments where tasks pause for the most important work. May you run through the grass with your little ones. May the tree house stand firmly beneath your Mommy-figure. {It could be a bit tramautic if we break the tree house, after all.} May your children see the love of the Creator refining you as you pour into each of their little lives with the joy that flows from God’s endless mercy.
May you change the world, one little life at a time, as you invest in the simplicity of childhood.
From my heart {and sturdy tree house} to yours, ~Courtney
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