This little bundle of wildflowers has been wooing me for weeks. Each time I glanced out our kitchen window I spied them on the outskirts of the woods behind our house. It was impossible not to notice their bright, happy color set against the dark rich greens that have overtaken the space between the woods and our home. Often, I made a mental note. . . go get those flowers
. . . and then I am distracted by a crying baby, a ding on the washer, a crying baby, a beep of the cell phone, a crying baby, or the fog that has become my brain. Oh, and did I mention a crying baby?
We had a full week. Play dates, meetings, appointments, work and all the little things in between battled the side of me that prefers quiet, home, simplicity and rest. Three kids and a spring day that delivered a taste of summer makes quiet simplicity almost an impossibility. Hoses were dragged out and sprinklers set up while sweatshirts and jeans were officially traded for towels and bathing suits.
Charlie, Chanelle, and I sat together on the sidewalk while they intermittently braved the cool waters of the sprinkler. These moments when it’s “just the three of us’ are rare and it was obvious that they were loving it as much as was. Meadow was sleeping soundly inside and I soaked in these precious minutes, suddenly aware that this used to be our every day life.
Of course adding another member to our family has been wonderful. . . and it has also complicated things. Balance is the constant struggle and spreading one person between three during the day proves to be challenging. We do a lot of running and doing during our days together in hopes of keeping everyone entertained. Whether parks, or ducks, or play dates. . . we’ll try it all.
Meadow even had her first solo swing experience.
I enjoy watching my kids enjoy themselves. I like watching them marvel at the little things. It really does not take much to keep them happy.
For me, though, running and doing wear me down and leave me as parched and thirsty as running a marathon. By the time Thursday night came I was feeling it. After cleaning up dinner dishes I gave Chad a desperate look and he nodded me out the door. . . go ahead.
I quietly slipped out the backdoor and walked slowly toward the bright yellow flowers that now seemed to be calling my name. As I got to the edge of the woods the quiet drew me in and I meandered my way through the overgrown grass hidden among the tall trees of the forest. I walked deeper in and with each step my body relaxed a little more. Tiny flowers, chirping birds, and little creatures surrounded me.
In stark contrast to our week, I intentionally walked slowly to take in everything around me. When my path spilled into an open meadow I took a moment to sit down and take in the quiet. I sat and listened to the deafening silence and felt as my body began to refuel. I looked up to the sky and noticed the sun that was falling slowly behind the trees and I knew that this is just what I needed.
A few moments to step away and balance out all that encompassed the rest of our week. As much as I’d like to be one of those “super-mom’s” that can do all and be all at all times–I’m just not. I’m not built that way. If I didn’t know it with two kids. . . I know it with three. Every now and then (probably more than the average person) I need quiet moments of stepping away to make me a better Mom.
And the best thing about stepping away? Stepping back into this. . .
a handful of yellow flowers. . .