When I gave birth to my strange miniature human, I threw all my selfishness out of the window. Wrong. I'm still selfish, but now I have to force myself to be selfless 24 hours a day. It is hard work, y'all.
My week was so exhausting that I even job searched.. (I know, I know. Crazy.) And I love being a SAHM, but not this week. This past week I daydreamed about what I could be doing without my son. While a friend, without kids, was going hiking in Colorado, I was trying to force a babler (baby and toddler mix) to eat his stinking peas and take just one nap. Hiking in Colorado sounded like an extremely nice get away at the moment. Ha.
In the past 7 days my son has managed to dump out every open cabinet/drawer or shelf he could find. I felt like my back was going to explode from picking up so much tub-o-ware, bowls, pots and pans.
Every time I open the door outside and I don't let Benaiah out, he throws a fit. If he could play outside all day, he would. We spend two hours a day outside. I'm not exaggerating.
For some reason, Benaiah pretended that he wasn't 20 pounds. So he wanted to be carried all day.
He also thinks it is super funny to climb up the stairs and run away from me like we're playing tag. I know it's incredibly cute, but I need him to stay downstairs.
He is obsessed with dog food. If it's out, he's going to get it.
He thinks it's hilarious when I say "NO!" Seriously. He laughs.
He's also figured out how to open the toilet seat and do water play. If I forget to shut one door, it all goes downhill from there.
The dish cycle never ends. Ever. If the sink is clear of dishes, somehow in an hour a dish or 50 appear.
Let's not forget that all of the toys should be scattered all over the living room. Not one toy should be left in the toy box.
He reminds me to find Him in the small things.
The small things.
Like when my son runs outside to explore God's creation. He is so happy throwing dirt in his hair and splashing in his little plastic blue pool. He loves taking hour long walks around our neighborhood pond. He has not care in the world if sweat is dripping in his eyes. He loves his view.
The small things.
The small things.
Like when he pulls a book or 20 off the shelf. He picks one and brings it to me so he can flip through the pages while I read one word. He loves reading.
The small things.
Like when he bangs on anything to create music. He pulls the tub-o-ware out to bang on it like a drum. I leave a key-board on a low table upstairs. He runs upstairs just to "play" it.
The small things.
Like when he's playing with his toys, he'll walk over just to give me a besito (kiss in Spanish).
The small things.
Like when he gets super silly before bed and wants to wrestle on the couch or bed. He loves when I gently push him back. He'll laugh and laugh.
The small things.
Like when he takes his bath in the evening, he'll have conversations with me and his rubber duck. He's such a talker.
The small things.
Like when I sing him Amazing Grace before laying him in his crib. He nestles his head on my chest and coos as if he's singing with me.
The small things.
Like when I'm listening to worship music in the car and my son sleeps peacefully in the back. Instead of dreaming what I could be doing, I'm dreaming of what he will be doing.
Finding God in the small things.
When all our complaints seem to overwhelm us, it's important to stop and remember the small things that have a bigger impact on our lives and our little ones' lives.
This week I will stop and remember that I need God more than anything. I need His help to remember Him the small things. To remember Him through the laughter and the tears. I need His help to remember where I was and where He has brought me. I am new because I know Him. Remembering God in the small things is not just for me, but for those that are around me especially my baby boy.
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