I have things to do. I have things to do. I have things to do.
Okay, I admit it, I am a doer. I have always been a doer. When I go to bed at night, I rate my day on a scale from amazing to abominable based solely on how much I was able to cross off my to-do list. I can hear many of you saying to me now: “You’re a stay-at-home mom. How could you possibly have things to do?” To which I would respond brusquely: “You would be surprised.” Can I get an alleluia from all you stay-at-home moms out there? Anyway, I am a doer. Doing used to be a lot easier before I had a 7 month old vying for every second of my attention. Doing also used to be easier when I was essentially forced to teach six hours, 100 kids, and six lessons every single day, five times a week. Sitting down wasn’t an option; I had no choice but to DO. DO. DO, and that is just what I did. I fell asleep each night with a huge smile on my face because I was exhausted due to the 5:00 am morning, 1000 emails, 20 minute lunch, 10,000 words, 100 faces, 3 meetings, and 60 miles I had successfully tucked under my belt from sunup to sundown. Now that I find myself living a completely different lifestyle, I continue to say: I have things to do. I have things to do. I have things to do.
Now I don’t want to send any sort of jinx down on my head for saying this, but my son is routinely relatively happy. He smiles. He giggles. He stares at the ceiling and talks to it for hours. I had no qualms saying any of this until…. yesterday. Yesterday my son switched bodies with one of those screaming babies I am inclined to judge at church (Oxymoron?). I don’t have one of those screaming babies. My son does not scream; he giggles. Until…. yesterday. My son needed me so badly yesterday to play with him, rock him, feed him, walk with him, entertain him, hold things for him, sit with him that by the end of the day I felt like I had been run over by my son’s tonka truck… four or five times. My happy boy vanished and was replaced by a screaming, inconsolable animal. I have things to do. I have things to do. I have things to do. My mantra never ceased as I rushed to put him down for a nap, rock him, and try anything that might make the screaming stop. I finally resigned myself to a bad day with nothing being crossed off my to-do list. This is when I picked my teary eyed, red face out of his crib, held him tight, and rocked him. I rocked him and rocked him and rocked him. Then, a miracle happened: the screaming stopped. We stayed in that recliner for so long, my butt nearly fell off. Suddenly I have things to do changed to This is all that matters.
I did not quit my job so I could organize the nursery, do laundry, clean the kitchen, and check my emails. I quit my job so I would have the incredible opportunity to raise my baby. So today, when my son starts crying in the middle of writing my blog and my first thought is to say, I have things to do. I will stop and I will say, This is all that matters. So today, whether you stay home with your babies, have 100 papers to correct, or 100 bills to pay, Stop. Put it all down and pick up your babies. They are all that matter.