Little Girl Dreams
Micah and I have begun reading a book about a friend of ours who gave the bulk of her life to camp ministries. In the introduction, she talks about laying awake at night as a young girl, daydreaming about being a camp counselor like her camp counselor. It prompted the thought, what was it that I used to lay awake daydreaming about?
As I thought back over those early years, I realized that the daydream I cherished most was that of being a mother.
Which is a funny thing to say, because I haven't been living like it lately. I love my children. Love them more deeply than I could express. But I am tired. I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I'd love five minutes to myself in the bathroom, or a quiet car ride to talk to my husband. I've been thinking about how thankless diaper-changing and clothes-washing are. Most of all, I've been thinking that my biggest dream for myself must have been for something else.
It's hard to admit that, but I suppose they're somewhat natural thoughts. I used to be a nurse. It was almost a lifetime ago! I took care of tiny babies and I loved every minute of it. It was a career, it was a passion, it was a ministry. I knew who I was and why I was doing it and I loved it. I've been reliving those days in my mind a lot lately, wondering how I could go back and pick up just a few hours. I was someone then, and what I did was concrete. I had lunch breaks and an end to my day, and a car ride home by myself. Oh, the glory!
Micah and I decided early on that having me at home was a priority. It took work to get here. When he lost his job while I was pregnant with Henry, we had no choice. I continued to work. He eventually found a job and I cut back to the minimum number of hours possible. Then one week before we found out we were expecting Thomas, he lost that job. It's been a long road to this point, to staying home with our kids. And even now it's come with sacrifice. It's a huge financial sacrifice for me to be home with them.
So why don't I cherish it? What happened to the daydreams I used to have? I looked at other moms around me and craved what they had: beautiful children, homes filled with laughter and noise.
Sometimes I forget that I'm living my dreams--yes, even the toys on the floor, the food on the high chair, and the millionth request to read the same book we always read. These are the things that used to make me smile when I saw them in other families. How quickly I forget that the stuff of dreams--at least my childhood dreams--is the stuff of every day, the stuff I'm living now.
I hope that the reminder has served to reset my worn-out mind. I hope that I can wake tomorrow to the incessant chatter and remember that this is my dream. I hope I can look at my children through that lens and love them all the more freely. Trite as it sounds, they are, after all, my dream come true!
As I thought back over those early years, I realized that the daydream I cherished most was that of being a mother.
Which is a funny thing to say, because I haven't been living like it lately. I love my children. Love them more deeply than I could express. But I am tired. I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I'd love five minutes to myself in the bathroom, or a quiet car ride to talk to my husband. I've been thinking about how thankless diaper-changing and clothes-washing are. Most of all, I've been thinking that my biggest dream for myself must have been for something else.
It's hard to admit that, but I suppose they're somewhat natural thoughts. I used to be a nurse. It was almost a lifetime ago! I took care of tiny babies and I loved every minute of it. It was a career, it was a passion, it was a ministry. I knew who I was and why I was doing it and I loved it. I've been reliving those days in my mind a lot lately, wondering how I could go back and pick up just a few hours. I was someone then, and what I did was concrete. I had lunch breaks and an end to my day, and a car ride home by myself. Oh, the glory!
Micah and I decided early on that having me at home was a priority. It took work to get here. When he lost his job while I was pregnant with Henry, we had no choice. I continued to work. He eventually found a job and I cut back to the minimum number of hours possible. Then one week before we found out we were expecting Thomas, he lost that job. It's been a long road to this point, to staying home with our kids. And even now it's come with sacrifice. It's a huge financial sacrifice for me to be home with them.
So why don't I cherish it? What happened to the daydreams I used to have? I looked at other moms around me and craved what they had: beautiful children, homes filled with laughter and noise.
Sometimes I forget that I'm living my dreams--yes, even the toys on the floor, the food on the high chair, and the millionth request to read the same book we always read. These are the things that used to make me smile when I saw them in other families. How quickly I forget that the stuff of dreams--at least my childhood dreams--is the stuff of every day, the stuff I'm living now.
I hope that the reminder has served to reset my worn-out mind. I hope that I can wake tomorrow to the incessant chatter and remember that this is my dream. I hope I can look at my children through that lens and love them all the more freely. Trite as it sounds, they are, after all, my dream come true!
