Monday, November 8, 2010

Boy time and buns in the haze of busyness

This first picture cracks me up. I love that Weston took it, and he did a good job getting both of us in the shot, but it's out of focus. I can't help thinking there's something symbolic in that. We're nearly there, nearly present, nearly accessible to our little six year old, but there just a fuzziness to full clarity. Here I was hoping for a nice shot of us in our fancy duds on Dave's opening night, and instead I get a truer picture of the week proceeding: a bit of fuzz and murk in the the progress of efficiency.





Thank God for the extra hour!
Our family made it through opening week of Dave's show: "The Secret Garden" without sickness and without too many consequences.
Just one privilege lost and a very messy house. We rolled up our sleeves last night and started to uncover the living room, and today we hope to bring a modicum of order to the boys' bedroom. It's challenging, because I don't like housework, especially when I didn't make the mess. But, we did some, and God helping, we will do a little more. Discipline is so tough when you feel like you've been just hanging on for a while -- I want my husband home, I want to eat cookies, I want a movie night --I want a reward!
Donovan had been asking about cinnamon buns for a couple weeks now, so finally we made some. He helped. And he did a good job. I was pleased. There are many steps to a good home made cinnamon bun, and we made a lot. Even enough for Daddy to take a fresh batch to his Christianity and the Arts class. I thought Donovan might leave early, but he stuck it out. I remember him saying, "I know these will taste great because of all the care we are putting into them." True. Food made with love always tastes better.
Then yesterday the boys had a good romp on the bouncy castle at church. Dave caught them in action. I love his photos. He captured a true picture as well, only slightly posed, perhaps. Nonetheless, seeing them framed in the bright red circle of a mammoth inflatable toy helps me look at them closer. I see glimpses of the men they will become. And I am humbled and slightly frightened for my own mortality. Will I know them then? Doesn't matter now.
I should seize the time.
It's only boy time for a little while longer.
And if I'm still focused on the busyness, I'll miss the moments of clarity.
And time spent with care will leave a better aftertaste.

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