The Gardens

Its 6:30 a.m. Holden has woken up for the day but I was up till 2 a.m. painting our bathroom.
Landon has been up since 5:00 working before he puts in a full work day at Adobe. Mona will wake up in a couple hours and I will spend the next thirteen or so hours being a mom while also trying to get a few chores done, make dinner, look like and function as a normal person...That's how many of my days go lately. Sometimes it feels like my eye is always on the clock when my kids are right in front of me.

Today at church my teacher  was discussing time. He mentioned that in advanced physics, there are some physicists who reject the idea that time exists at all. And yet it is so central to all we do. I certainly value my time--both awake and asleep--as one of my most valuable entities, but I don't really own it...Time is so hard to define, so intangible but so permeable. And so today when I heard the "time doesn't exist" theory, I struggled (still struggling) to grasp the concept but could see benefits almost immediately. No time=no feeling rushed, no rules about when to sleep, when to wake, when to eat. I quickly countered these benefits with all the impractical implications this theory brings and how essential and good time really is in our lives. But the whole no feeling rushed benefit is a bit stuck in my mind right now.

When I'm with my kids, I want to be there with my kids, not thinking about all the stuff I could get done if Holden would only take a nap and Mona would stop playing with me and go play by herself. I want to cherish the moments, trivial and grand. Because if the short but incredible four years of marriage and two and a half years of being a mom has taught me anything, its that the prosaic counts. Those everyday, playtime/mealtime/bathtime routines and rituals--they're what count and they're teaching me how to forget myself and love.

Breaks are important too. Friday night, after a busy day at work Landon came home feeling worn out and frustrated simply because there's just not enough time to get all we want and sometimes need to get done in the day, much less hours to sleep at night. I empathize with those feelings so much right now. But he went along with my idea anyway of going to the Tulip Festival with the kids and my mother in law Debbie. We walked around the gardens for a long time (with a sleep deprived and pretty grumpy Mona) and had dinner afterwards at the deli there. It was so beautiful and yet there were quite a few moments where I was thinking about how the trip would have been easier and more fun had Landon and I just gone alone. I really believe couples should have their alone time too. Its just that this is almost always how any family trip to the store, to the museum, to the restaurant goes lately. There's most likely going to be a meltdown or two from our two year old and a few crying colicky sessions from our four month old.

I don't know how, but after these trips, as I'm deleting the crying pictures from our family camera and editing or posting the  happy go lucky pictures, all of a sudden the experience of going on these outings become so pleasant. And they almost always turn into these fond memories I carry with me. In this case, strolling through some of the most beautiful man-made scenery I have ever been in with the people I love more than anyone in the world. The meltdowns from Mona fade into funny memories of her running down the grass slopes, feeding fish (and eating the fish food), and sneaking a few flowers illegally from the gardens. The colicky moments with Holden are replaced by the smiling, cooing and caaing noises he made that night. And Landon is fixed in my heart as the super hot, loving husband and Dad who gave up truly valuable hours to spend with the people he loves most. He's the best.

So I'm just learning. But I'm thinking that the best time to give may very well be when you don't think you have anything left to give.