I realized yesterday (again) that although life right now isn't easy, it isn't supposed to be. Life with Loyd at home isn't easy, either. It isn't supposed to be. When I'm trying to type and Quinn comes over and starts pulling at the laptop or my hands, he's telling me that he needs me, not just being an obnoxious toddler. When Violet is acting out, or talks incessantly, something is bothering her or I need to engage more with her. Just being in the room with my kids isn't enough. Soon the day will come where Quinn won't run over for snuggles or to watch Dinosaur Train in my lap. Soon the day will come where Violet won't want to giggle over hand puppets in the car. I need to eat up these moments with joy, not push them away with frustration. I need to make a better effort to experience life, not constantly pick up clutter. The living room can wait, my kids can't.
Speaking of life being hard, as a Christian, I know that the ultimate sacrifice was given on Good Friday. And here I am complaining about hyper toddlers and obnoxious tweens. Good Friday not only gives me something to think about, it is the most amazing opportunity to talk to my kids about the relationship Jesus had with his Father, and what he did without asking why. I'm not saying that I am no longer allowed to complain, but I should probably think really hard about whether or not it's worth it before I do.
Have a blessed Easter, everyone.
"It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ And having said this he breathed his last.” Luke 23:44-46