I have been taking advantage of my day off and catching up on all the things that despeartely need doing around the house. Anthony plays joyfully on the floor, a game of catch with a paper bag. The dishes are done, cookies are in the oven, laundry is rotated. There is peace, there is a moment for me. I sit down and turn on my laptop, ready to type a few more words closer to my word goal, ready to lose myself in another world, if only for a few minutes.
Anthony senses this, as they always do, and drunk penguin runs to me. He climbs on the couch and into my lap, to my very center, taking both his hands on the side of my face, demanding attention. He wants to play, he wants to nurse, he wants all of me. I am not happy about this. I want to write. I want to lose myself. I want to forgot for a moment that I am a wife and a mother, I want to stop being present for just one second. I put him on the ground. He cries, his feelings scratched. He climbs up again, more insistent this time. I put him down, rinse repeat. I give up on my words, I begrudgingly give him what he needs.
My son won't be a baby for long. He's already grown out of his sized zero clothing, into double numbers and beyond. He's walking and talking, he's discovering his voice and how to use it to get what he wants. He is now, he is present, he is here. How often do I find myself away? How often do I find myself wishing that I could have a moment to myself?
But there are no moments for myself, not really. All of my moments need to be God moments. The loop of grace- God gives me grace, I receive it and give it back, and God, needing nothing, gives it back to me ten fold. God gave me my fertility and I gave it back to him, and as a result I have this fount of grace, this little boy, who through baptism I returned, and the grace keeps coming. I need to slow down and remember that. I need to slow down and be here, be now. I need to give grace (and patience and love and charity and mercy) just as God has given those things to me.