stop look and listen

do you ever have those days when something stops you and you suddenly realize that you do, in fact, have it all?  well, not it all, but you have absolutely enough, actually, more than enough?  that you have, exactly what you really need and even what you most wanted.

i am having one of those days.

perhaps it was the endorphins released during my incredible cross-fit, girl time (plus ian) start to the day.  perhaps it was having the house to myself for a few hours- to just be still and quiet and reflect and remember.  perhaps it was reading through several inspiring articles posted by friends on facebook about work and mommying and time.  perhaps it was thinking about the summer and going home and how great that will be, sandwiched between the parts about not being with all my kids and mike together, and how much i will miss them. perhaps it was finding a betty crocker cake mix and the frosting, at a market in town.

but whatever the reason (my heart or my shoes), i'm sitting at my table feeling an abundance of blessing. feeling in awe actually of what i've been given- in my husband and my children, and my siblings and my parents and my in-laws, and my friends.  i'm sitting at this table praying that i can sit still long enough to not forget this in the moments that are coming. 

because i'm really quite good at forgetting.

i'm really good at being swallowed by the blessings.  at being distracted away from them.  at busying myself so that i can't see the joy in front of me.  i'm really good at turning around at the end of the day and wondering where it went, and whether i sat down and looked each of my children in the eyes at least once.  i'm too good at having everyone in bed by 8, but maybe not good enough at being present in the hours between getting home from school and climbing into those beds. 

in these days when i am able to see my life for what it is- the privilege of parenting these 4 completely fascinating individuals, and being married for almost 20 years to an amazing man who i am not worthy of, and living cross-culturally in africa at a time in history when i can still follow the news and see my nephews on line as if i lived nearby- all i can do is say WOW and THANKS and HELP me to be in this blessed life's moments.

because i don't want to wake up one day and have missed it.  i don't want to take any of it for granted.  i don't want to mis-influence my kids, because everything we do and don't do, is noticed. 

the problem is, HOW? 

how do i train myself to slow it down? how do i stop mentally planning my day during the car ride to school, and start engaging in the conversation about how tall the tallest man in the world is compared to a tree, or how someone came up with the idea of juggling chainsaws to get into the guiness book of world records, and then how they could actually juggle 73 of them? (it might not be 73- because i'm pretty sure i was thinking about the needed ingredients for cake pops) but really, HOW?

because it's hard. even on these spectacular days of remembering, it's hard for me to fully embrace the mass of energy and blessing that are my children.  it's hard for me to stop and look at mike and stand in awe of this life we've been given together- instead of just rushing together to get dinner on the table.  it's hard for me to be thankful for living life in uganda on days when i feel overwhelmed by the need or the bad roads, or the lack of chocolate chips.

i thought about painting the word STOP in giant letters on the wall, but that might send the wrong message to the kids about where it's okay to write and where it's not.  i thought about making a rule for all of us about no media during 4-8pm for anyone.  i thought about planning more kid-friendly activities- like making cake pops.  but then i remembered the times with my parents from my childhood.  i remembered the important ones.  they are not glamorous.  they were not planned.  they were watching sunday afternoon football with my dad on the couch.  they were talking with my mom as i sat on the dryer while she made dinner.  they were conversations in the car on the way to the dentist.  they were learning the multiplication tables in the living room.  the moments when i felt valued as a kid- were just the normal, everyday moments.  the times that stick in my memory are found in just the plain old living of life together.

so guess all i can do is try. and keep trying. i guess i can turn off some of the outer distractions when my kids are home, and mike is home, and try to work on the inner distractions too.  i guess i can hold on to the thanks, i can chose to remember, i can put on my mental "todo list" - stop, look and listen - over and over and over again.

i'd like to say i'm starting fresh.  that from here on out, i will listen intently to every story out of small mouths, and laugh loudly at that joke, "why is 6 scared of 7?...... because 7 8 9" even though i've heard it a million times, and wait patiently as someone learns to whistle, and actually play legos.  but i can't promise that.  

all i can do is live in today.  live it this afternoon between 4 and 8pm, and maybe it gets easier because laughing and playing are fun, and what am i trying to get done anyway?