Micah found a red and grey, striped, crew neck, cotton, zip front sweat shirt from a recent bag of friendly hand me downs. (Dear God, thank you for every bag of boy’s clothing that comes through that front door…boys are so hard on their clothes.) I am currently loading a pile of dirty laundry into the washing machine.
“Look at this shirt…”
I barely take my eyes off the duty before me…but I engage him in conversation…”Oh wow. Did you get that from Cam?”
“Yeah. Maybe you should take a picture of me…”
I am busting my hump to get some chores done before Max wakes up from his nap, so that I can feel free to spend those immediate 20 minutes when he wakes…simply getting his lunch in him and then promptly escorting the 6 of us to the pool…ITS 92 DEGREES…it’s the pool or it’s nothing. We haven’t yet installed our main air conditioner for the downstairs, so it can get down right miserable in certain situations (insert short video of me impulsively and involuntarily shaking free of the sticky hands of a small child, not intending to startle the child but doing so anyway…leaving behind an even more unfortunate scenario than previously…) So I was aiming for a 3 o clock date with that warm, tranquil, bacteria rich baby pool.
I remain focused…if I stopped and took a picture of my kids every time they requested it…I wouldn’t get anything done…ever. This time though…his request felt different.
I didn’t stop what I was doing to take the picture. I regret it now. I take so many pictures of these kids. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to stop EVERYTHING that I was doing to enjoy his life with him. I had myself convinced that a heap of filthy duty in my bare hands somehow took precedence over the living, breathing, growing, insatiable suggestion of my 3rd and 2nd and 1st child. (Micah is so special…he was my first single child, my previous pregnancy had been twins. He was my second pregnancy. He was my third child. ) When your home begins to fill up with the products of the love you share with your better half…you start to wonder how each of them will always be reminded and be sure of how very special they are to you. Will they forget that they were the apple of your eye? Will they change completely and totally and will they end up being someone in the end that you never imagined they would hover could have been? Positive or negative? Will it feel as though this person is a product of everything that has been poured into them…emotionally, relationally, spiritually? Are we not creating our own future with every interaction we perform with our children?
I rambled something about…”Well…that’s more of a winter shirt, Micah. You’re probably hot.”
I wasn’t denying him my approval on purpose…I realize, looking back. I just had this other thing, this dirty laundry…that had sat for 3 days and begged for my attention with its inadequate and frumpy presence in the corner of my kitchen…It just needed me more. And Micah usually isn’t a hard one to appease with agreeable conversation. Owen can be a little harder, as he requires eye contact…imagine that.
I can’t recall exactly what was said next, but Micah went away, as I remained set on my course toward laundry greatness. Then tonight, while I tidied the kitchen…I recalled his 8 year old voice…”Mom. You should take a picture of me in this…” and I regretted letting that moment slip by. I probably have at least 2000 pictures of Micah. I can’t feel bad, but I do. I just don’t want to dismiss too many of those opportunities. I always want them to know that I am here to snap a pic of them when life is feeling good and they have on a new sweatshirt.
“Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.” Thank you, Mr. Lennon…for saying it best.
Stop what you’re doing. Take the picture.
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