Today I realized my lack of freedom all over again. I really wanted to get some peaches from the grocery at 99 cents/pound and to see if I could hit up a sale over at Old Navy for some end of summer sales. While I was gone during nap time, Esmae woke up and I got frantic texts from Gabe saying that Esmae was screaming and wouldn’t take the bottle. Of course, the systems were down at Old Navy and the lady had to literally use a calculator to figure out the percentage discount and hand enter all of the skew numbers into the computer. The line was long and it took a while for her to type everything in.
I got some stares when I broke into a full out run from Old Navy across the mall to my car. I sped home like my life depended on it, and just wanted to cry. I felt like I just wanted, dare I say needed, to get an Auntie Annie’s lemonade and soft pretzel and browse—maybe even walk into some stores and try a few things on. When I got home, Esmae was immediately transferred to my boob, and life went on as usual. Martell ran around the house naked, asked to see “new things in the bags,” and responded with “ooooooo, I LOVE it, Mommy! I put it on?”
Once Esmae was fed, I walked to the kitchen and unloaded all of the peaches into the sink for washing, turned on some straight up gangsta rap, and Esmae giggled at Martell and I dancing in the kitchen together. Side note—Martell has learned that he can watch himself dance in his reflection on the oven door and it has me all heart-fluttery at his cuteness. I cherish his eagerness to help mama—he loved peeling the stickers off the peaches and “helped” me by devouring a drippy peach all on his own.
After cutting 16 pounds of peaches tonight with Gabe and sitting on the counter answering his question, “do you feel happy with where our marriage is right now?” it hit me hard. There is no life I would rather live. There are no children I would rather wake up in the middle of the night for, or wipe the butts of, or correct with grace, or read the same book a million times to, or hold on my hip while I clean, or cuddle after naps, or prepare dinner for, or comfort when the tears fall. There is no husband I would rather wash laundry for, or grocery shop for, or clean up the house for, or fall asleep beside.
I realized tonight all over again that I want to lay my life down over and over and over again for my sweet little humans. I want to pour myself out until I’m emptied, because it’s when I’m emptied of everything I’ve got that I am filled. The great paradox of faith says that when we give, we receive.
I have received abundantly. Thank you, Jesus. I am so undeserving of the great gift that is my family.