Onions are caramelizing on the stove, dough is rising, and two boys keep asking if they can make their own personal pizzas later on (and a little sister will also want in on the action once she sees a brother standing on a chair by the counter).
It’s Friday night. The favorite. It’s the start of Daddy’s TWO DAYS home, the night when mama makes “fun” food (aka kid-approved meals), and our night for a family movie or games.
Someone once asked me when my favorite time of the day is. I said when Josiah gets home. They assumed it was because I could hand over the reins of parenting and get a breather. No, it wasn’t that (although it’s nice on the days when a baby doesn’t nap to say, “You’re home! Can I just take a 15 minute shower with no one barging into the room real quick?”). We continue life together — all of us together, generally — but it’s my favorite because he’s my favorite person to be with. So yes, I’m counting down the minutes right now. It’s 5:00. So, soon.
Our house is currently in shambles. One half of the house has been demoed, rebuilt, and is in the process of being taped. The other two rooms downstairs are where we’ve spent our days or where we’re housing all our furniture. The kids thought this new arrangement grand fun, and I’ll say this: living in one room can be tough because if it’s a mess, then all of your life is a mess, but it’s also only one space to tidy. Quick and easy.
The dryer hums, the wind howls outside, and I’d light a candle if I could, but all my lighters have died and I guess I don’t believe in matches because I can’t find a single box. Someday soon I’ll hopefully remember to grab a replacement lighter. And maybe a backup box of matches.
The son who was tired and gave me attitude earlier today just walked up, kissed my cheek, and said, “You’re a good mom.” I thought of his attitude, the correction I had to give, and the opportunity to either be annoyed and make sure he knew it or lovingly show him his error and make sure he knew that in the midst of his struggle, I still loved him and viewed him as a blessing. It’s not always easy or a “natural” feeling to not allow my annoyance to come through, but today I had a moment of victory, and then this — this kiss and word of love. If you want to receive words of life, give words of life.
I’m in the process of trying to be better at that. Verbalize praise, encourage more often, actually TELL those around me when I notice a strength, how they’ve blessed, what I feel toward them rather than just think those thoughts and move on. Use my tongue to build up in a very practical way. Anyone else? Anyway.
My little girl needs me. Laundry needs to be put away. An oven needs to be turned on so it’s piping hot for pizza night.
Happy Friday night!