I tend to find myself day dreaming while doing my household duties. While doing the dishes or folding clothes or putting toys back for the millionth time I start thinking about the things I could do if only I had more time.
If only I had more time, I could…
-make fancy homemade soap
-get better at knitting
If only I had more time to do the things I wanted to do.
“You’re the best, mommy!”
Wait, where did that come from? After thinking through the day I can’t think of a single reason why my kids would randomly say that.
So far I’ve…
-reminded them to put their toys away at least 10 times
-scolded them for hitting each other.
-put them in time out for talking back.
At this point I’ve been getting increasingly irritated. While angrily cleaning up the toys, I’m reminded of the sweet moments we spent together sharing tea and crumpets, playing “waiter and eater”, chasing each other pretending we are super heroes, reading Sandra Boynton books, getting the baby out of the dishwasher.
I am reminded that my time is not mine.
I am in a season of motherhood where my time is theirs. There will come a time when I’ll look for toys to pick up…and there won’t be any. There will come a time where I’ll be cooking for two again.
There will come a time that time is mine again. When that time comes, I’ll enjoy my time soap making, crocheting, knitting and reading.
Until that time I will remind myself that my time is theirs…for now.