It’s early but feels late. (Is 6pm too soon to put kids to bed?)

Jeff is gone tonight and tomorrow night. I had a meeting last night. We’ve had four showings four days in a row. Today’s house showing gave me 15 minutes notice.  I’m tired.

I finish the dishes of the big salmon dinner Jeff didn’t get to eat. Resist the urge to medicate with chocolate. “Ok, bath time, pick up your toys!” Kids scurry, pick up toys. Begin to head upstairs. I look around. These kids must be half blind. Call them back down to get the rest.

Dutch looks around, bewildered. “What other toys?”

Is it a boy thing?

We finish. Head up. An issue of delayed obedience (which is disobedience) demands attention. There are tears. They are tired too.  Bodies are cleaned but washing hair is a war. Little bodies, slippery like fish, are wrapped in towels. I notice the smell. Glance over at the laundry basket. It towers, taunting me. Tomorrow, I tell myself.

They’re just getting settled when it hits — the ravenous bedtime hunger. “May I please have something to eat?” Which from Heidi’s mouth sounds like, “May I peese ‘ave froggy to eat?”  For some reason “something” always sounds like “froggy.”  I remember their non-existent appetite at dinner when salmon was served. Suddenly that appetite has returned with a vengeance. After banana, cheese, and a baggie of tomatoes, they ask for more but I draw the line. I kiss them both and turn toward the door.

Out the door, in the hall, I exhale the sigh of relief, but stop in the hall. My room, the bed, the computer, the escape, it calls. Beckons. Lures. Come, be DONE. DONE. DONE.

I haven’t prayed with them. I haven’t told them how much God loves them. I’ve cared for their bodies but neglected their souls. My flesh is so weak the truth is I just want to close my bedroom door and be done.

I turn around and enter in.

I kneel, curl up beside Dutch and lean in close to his puppy-breath, kiss his cheeks. I pray God’s goodness and favor and blessing and grace over his life, then tell him how much God loves him and I do too.

“Mommy, I love you so much.”

I almost missed this.

Head into Heidi’s room. She’s already heavy-eyed and sucking her thumb, curls spilled over her pillow. I pray. Tell her as well how much God loves her and I do too.

“Mommy I yuv you.”

How could I have considered missing this?

I slide under my covers. Write this. Read a precious email from another tired mom. Close the laptop lid and snuggle down into darkened silent bliss. Close my eyes, yes.

“Mommy!! May I please have more cheese?!”

{Happy mid-week, and thanks for reading.}

4 thoughts on “What you don't want to miss”

  1. Thank you for the reminder to slow down at the time I want to hurry the most. With a break being just a few minutes in sight I tend to rush through bedtime most nights. Hot Hubby is gone hunting for 11 days and if I don’t watch myself carefully bedtime can become the war that breaks this momma’s back. I really want this time to run smooth but have to watch myself to make sure I’m not the one making it worse. Love the “froggy” thing!

  2. I loved this, Kari! Every mom can identify. That last hour before the kids are asleep in bed is always the hardest for me, but some of my best memories of growing up with my dad are bedtime. I don’t want to steal those memories from my kids, or miss out on them myself. When Brian’s gone for bedtime (which happens often because of his 12-hour shifts) I want to give up on the day early, but that’s when the kids need me the most. Oh, to be enough for those little souls!

  3. I love you even more precious , gentle honest, AKA ‘my name is mommy’. Had I known Jesus as a mommy your age, who knows how life would be now? I can only imagine and stop to remember and receive His grace for me for the moments gone and missed and thankful there are women like you, who stop and receive His grace now and turn around to avoid missing the moments. Ah, gentle, powerful GRACE:)

  4. Kari,
    How I’m laughing in a “totally understand” kind of way. That sounds like EVERY night in my house!! The struggle is always to just strive rather than thrive. Or to strive rather than ABIDE. How often I feel “the right” to be frustrated, or to be overwhelmed with the daily privilege of parenting. What an awesome reminder though, to S.L.O.W down and not wish it away. I love the reminder to not neglect their souls in the caring of their bodies. The laundry will always be there. The “cleaner” house will always bekon. But the kids will grow up and we must not waste opportunity. We WILL miss the bedtime routine as often as we are frustrated by it today.

    I think you and Jeff subscribe to DG too? Did you guys catch Rachel Jankovic’s article this week? Loved. http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/motherhood-is-application

    She also wrote a very pleasurable book that I highly recommend about “Loving the Little Years”…I think you would enjoy. It’s a super fast read. In any event, she also wrote another article titled “Motherhood is a Mission” or something to the equivalent. It’s in the DG archives…. highly recommend that one as well.

    Thanks for the reminder, dear friend. Sure do miss all you up there in that glorious state!!!

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