Saturday, November 15, 2014

various thoughts on a Saturday night

My kids are big fans of pajamas, especially Bubby, just like his mama.  Even though we homeschool, we actually do get dressed right before or after breakfast most of the time. But on Saturdays, if there's nothing going on, some of us tend to stay in our jammies as long as possible.  That is why today, when it snowed for less than three minutes, my boys went outside in their jammies (and then I threw coats on them) to enjoy the tiny bits of white falling from the sky. That is also why when two weeks ago when we were in the backyard playing and I decided to take pictures of the boys in the leaves, Bubby is wearing bright red pajamas. I could have stopped and made him change into the cute flannel shirt and jeans he owns for a better photo op. But life is not supposed to be lived as a photo op. (Contrary to what we see on Facebook or Pinterest or Instagram - all of which I enjoy and frequent.) Hopefully I will get some pictures of the boys in the leaves in their flannel shirts at some point. However, I caught a typical Saturday afternoon on my camera, which is even better than the pretty pictures that I still do enjoy.

My house, my (lack of) style, my life will never gain a lot of attention, and that is okay. I am learning to be content with what we have, which has always been enough. Somehow we have always had enough food and clothing and shelter and love to get us through.  I remind myself of this often because I do forget, especially with recent bumps in the road that we have encountered. Questions constantly pummel me, wanting my attention, trying to get me to doubt and fear. But I look back and see "all I have need of His hand will provide." It's not an easy thing to say or believe, but I stand on it because the alternative for me is harder to say or believe.

Today Bug was having a mini-crying spell as I finished up lunch.  I had allowed the boys a few minutes of iPad time to share, and Bug was upset each time it wasn't his turn.  So I told Bubby he could just have it for awhile.  I look over a minute later, and Bug is calm, and Bubby is sharing his turn with his younger brother, gently moving his hand the way the occupational therapist and I do. They played together happily for a few minutes, tears gone from the youngest and the oldest not at all bothered to sacrifice what he would want to do for what they could do together. I almost grabbed the camera to snap away, but it felt the wrong thing to do - to disturb such a moment.

At bedtime tonight we thought Bug was already asleep, so I put him in his bed. We did our Bible reading/prayer routine with Bubby. When The Hubs tucked Bubby in, he saw that Bugaboo was still awake. "Mommy pray, " he said when I came into his room again. Of course I felt awful that we had accidentally left him out. We let him pray, and we all prayed again.  Bubby prayed, "Dear Jesus. Thank You for Bugaboo. Thank You for creating him and for making him my brother. Thank You that he is kind. I love him. Amen." All of this made me cry.

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