A few days ago Jack came into my room wearing a hooded sweatshirt and lined cargo pants.
"Jack, the high is 105 today. Put on shorts and a t-shirt."
"B-but, Mom!!! I don't have any shorts or t-shirts left in my drawer."
I had just spent over an hour folding clean clothes just the other night. So I went to the closet to make sense of the dirty laundry situation, and sure enough both baskets were overflowing onto the floor.
Then I checked Jack's drawers. No summer clothes.
I was so happy. And not because of any strange postpartum hormonal madness.
Immediately I thought of a talk President Monson gave in Conference nearly two years ago: "Finding Joy in the Journey". There was one line that struck me, and I've remembered it since:
"If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will—to your surprise—miss them profoundly."
In October of 2008 these words left me wistful--and not in the way that President Monson had intended. While I recognized the message of enjoying every phase in life, I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself. "Children" is plural. I had one child--and I was having difficulties finding joy in my journey at that particular time. We had toys, but they weren't scattered around the house because I could control the mess. I had three piles of laundry--whites, lights, and darks. Wash was always started and completed on Mondays. Very predictable. And manageable. I was bored. I had a lot of time on my hands, and not many ways to fill it having just moved to a small town. I longed for some chaos. I wanted major fingerprints on my back door, because that would mean Jack had a little playmate.
I wanted piles and piles of laundry to replace the vast amounts of time I spent crying and agonizing over why I couldn't have more children.
Now I have more piles. And hopefully a few years from now Micah will come in wearing his Halloween costume because all of his summer AND winter clothes are piled up in the hamper due to even more Bailey children having been born, thus causing the laundry situation to spiral completely out of control.
Heck, I will designate a second room to piles of laundry because of what those piles represent.
8 comments:
I remember that talk for much the same reasons.
i love those kind of reminders. there is another one from a woman (i'm spacing on the specifics) who talks about remembering a particular picnic with her kids, but wanting to be able to remember what they ate, what they wore, what they talked about (the doing rather than the getting it done). and i loved this post - very beautifully written, Buffy!
Great post, Buffy.
I love you, Buffy for your wonderful attitude. Your post brought a tear to my eye. As much as I am enjoying my career now, nothing can ever match the complete and utter joy of raising little ones whose smiles are the first thing you see in the morning.
Good for you! I often have to remind myself, that messes are okay (once in awhile). I wish I had more hands too. Micah sure is cute.
Beautiful! I love you to pieces.
I love this. Well said!
Do you remember asking me how many loads of laundry I washed when Miranda was born? Remember how I couldn't really answer?
I think about that question frequently with the birth of each new baby.
I'm up to at least 10-14 loads, depending on how many sheets I've changed, how many swim trips, and how many "blowouts" we've had.
Yeah, it's crazy!
Oh, and folding? One load now covers the bed when I fold them and sort them. Whew! I've only got 4 girls.
Hmmmm, maybe it's the "girls" part...
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