Jerry put his choo-choo train in the oven last night. How do you think that went? Good?
Last night, Rob was using the bathroom and came back out only to see Jerry shutting the oven door as he rounded the corner. After a very serious talking to, Rob sent Jerry on his way and then turned on the oven to preheat for dinner. A bit later, he noticed a peculiar smell. That smell would be blue plastic, melting onto the racks of the oven. Lovely! I’m not quite sure why I’m telling you this, exactly. I believe that this is what brought me to the realization that I have been having as of late. I promise – it makes sense. Kind of.
As I was herding Jerry into the van this afternoon, I had a peak inside. The van floor is sprinkled with lots of everything, namely toys and crumbs. But mostly, white clamshells carried into the car by little feet. It occurred to me that not long ago I had vacuumed out the van, brought any unnecessary toys (yes, there is such a thing as “necessary toys”) inside and taken the extra time to tidy everything up. I did all of this tidying up maybe two weeks ago. Oh, FYI, in parent land, when you do something and then have to do it two weeks later, you sometimes feel like, I JUST did this. But you probably “just did” almost everything not long ago. Or because times flies by way to fast. Or maybe all of those factors work together strangely, somehow. Your days fly by and are busy by sometimes doing the same things over and over again which makes them feel like they run together until you’re doing something again – two weeks later. And you realize it has been two weeks.
Is your head spinning? Mine to.
I’m not complaining. It probably sounds that way. Call it me still adjusting somewhat to being home full time. At first the things that were novel are now loosing their, err, romance. Sure, I never thought that moms or people WANTED to do dishes. But it was new territory for me. Now, after I make a large meal, I think, “Ugh, time to clean it all back up again. Only to be destroyed again tomorrow.” Or after I get the children in bed, I can’t think of relaxing because I have to consider what needs to get done before tomorrow. And I’m not talking about going crazy and cleaning the whole house from top to bottom – most of the time, we’re talking bare minimum folks.
Which brings me to what occurred to me today. One day, my laundry baskets won’t be swimming in clothes – because I won’t have children living at home to do the washing for. Or, one day, meals will only be made to feed two people, because it will only be Rob and I to feed. My house will be clean, the air will be still and quiet. This is all only for a season. And while that may sound depressing, and in some ways it very much is, it is also what keeps things fresh for me. This isn’t forever. This stage in my life is only here for what will seem like a moment when it is all said and done. So the way I keep things fresh is to remember, that the shelf life of this era is only so long. And to Jerry, each day is a new chance to play, be excited and have fun. For Clara to, probably more so in the future, but still. I only get to have them this size, this age and this stage for so long. And then it will a whole new set of days and life and the activities that come with them.
So for now, here is to Cheerio’s in the sofa, spit up on my sweater, singing Humpty Dumpty for the millionth time and trains in the oven. Will I miss them all one day? Probably.