The days sort of blur together. And that's maybe the hardest part about where I find myself today. Guiltily, I sometimes think of what we'd be doing if we didn't have the twins. The pool, the zoo, the park for sure. We've always squeezed the life out of our summer days.
This summer will be different for sure. My friend is considering buying a Little Tikes pool, one decently sized. It's inflatable and comes with the water filtration system and a cover which locks. She too has a baby at home, and like I, fears what a boring summer afternoon will do to her eldest daughter. And for the bargain price of $150, I might be persuaded.
Why do we fear boredom for our kids? Why is my impulse so great to entertain my kids? Why does guilt nag at me when I call them from their play to clear the table, sweep the floor, or put the lid back on the crackers? As a mother now of five, I'm trying everyday clarify what it really is that I'm called to do (and not do) and then live into that. I've sworn off the job of cruise director.
I did get a little Bible reading done this morning. I like this translation of Psalm 119, from The Message: "I watch my step, avoiding the ditches and ruts of evil, so I can spend all my time keeping your Word. I never make detours from the route you laid out; you gave me such good directions." Every day, I know what needs done: I've got to love and serve my family (and dinner on the table is a good thing, too.) Discerning what to do is easy; doing it is harder. I know too well the ditches and ruts to be avoided. Anxiety. Complaining. Irritability. Selfishness.
For maybe the first time in my life, I want to do something well the first time. No regrets. No looking back and wishing it had been different. And so every day counts. Every mundane, nothing's new, kind of ordinary day .