So much of our life as adults can be so easily spent contemplating the past, planning the future, and living in our own bubble of opinion, thought, and wonder. The internet makes these things so much easier to do. We can research, plan, Pin, blog, and interact with others all through the means of our glowing screen.
These things are what adults do. It just is. Our brains have developed enough to deal with the abstract, the future, the past, and things we can’t see or touch.
Playing with and caring for babies happens completely in the now and the physical. Babies don’t know how to wait, how to plan, or how to communicate with words.They don’t care about Pinterest, my opinions on whatever hot topic, or my ability to be able to run fast eventually.
They are all about the here and now, what they can put in their mouths, what they can see, what they can feel.
Recently I’ve been so surprised by the fact that part of my job description (yes,being a mom is a legitimate job) is to play.
For the first time in a long time I am required to entertain in the present.
It could be a challenge at times, especially when I want to read a book, figure out my opinions, waste my brain on a screen, or eat bonbons (kids are great at sniffing out secret stashes and forcing you to share)!
But the challenge is here.
He needs me to play.
He needs me to build towers so he can knock them down. He doesn’t need me to plan all his birthday parties, wedding, and education on pinterest before he’s 5 months old.
He needs me to tickle him until he laughs.
He needs me to make sure he stays rested, fed, and clean.
He needs me to hold him.
He needs me to show him and his father love and a joyful spirit.
He needs me to read him books, to go on walks, to take his picture, and to make silly faces.
He needs me to live in this moment with him.
He needs me to take off my serious face and smile.
He needs dirt and fun and swings and adventure. Being his father’s son, I’m sure he needs these things.
He needs a quiet lap, warm hugs, and his momma’s sense of humor to be fully prepared to laugh at the boy jokes (his dad has been working on that one for him. lol)
He needs me.
He doesn’t need the millions of toys.
He needs me to show him how to play and to play with him while he shows me how awesome trucks are.
He doesn’t need the perfect house, the cutest clothes, the fittest mom, the awesomest toys, the best education,or anything else superlative the world and pinterest might tell us we need.
He needs parents who are the most there for him who fill his mind with good things, his heart with Jesus, and his life with the tools to live well.
That is what he needs.
He needs us.
He needs us there. And here.
I’m thinking this will be different.
It will take some slowing down.
It will take letting the days hit me in the face or breeze right by instead of planning the living daylights out of them.
It will take a willingness to let the unnecessary lay by the wayside or the redefinition of what is actually the necessary.
It will take listening and learning different ways to measure accomplishments – instead of diplomas and grades maybe try smiles and moments.
It will take more of my heart instead of so much of my head.
It will be different, but it will be worth it.