Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Letting Them In

Today, as I was trying to prepare our dinner, I was met with these words: let them in. No, I am not referring to the words that come after I hear the doorbell ring; this is something different. I was making pizza. I had all my ingredients--veggies, dough, sauce, spices--and all was well. I had two children in one room playing and the other two wild ones in another. The sun was shining through the windows, and it was shaping up to be a very peaceful moment.


As I began slicing and dicing, Brayden comes in the kitchen and says, "I want to watch you, Mama." I told him to go get the stool in the bathroom and come on back and join me. He was very content to watch me for a bit. Then, I see him getting down and rummaging through our kitchen towel drawer that is just beside the stove. I kept working. By this time I have several different things I am tending to. I hear him say, "I get it for you, Mama. I will get it for you." I turned to see him digging still. "That pin," he said. "Oh! Brayden, you are looking for the rolling pin. Oh honey, I can get it. There it is," I said as I let him in to pull it out. He smiled and hopped back on the stool with the rolling pin. He had seen the flour I had put on the counter to roll the pizza dough out on. He knew where I kept the rolling pin. He started to put the rolling pin down on the flour and I told him to wait a minute. I was trying to saute several things and make our vegan cheese sauce. Then Kalen came in to see what we were doing. He noticed that Brayden was holding the rolling pin, so he ran off upstairs. Soon he returned with the other stool from the upstairs bathroom. He asked, "Can I help, Mom?" I told him he could. I wasn't really smiling. I was focused.

I floured my hands and got the dough out and put it on the counter. I put flour on the rolling pin and started to roll. I looked to my left and saw two very eager little boys that wanted to help but were not saying a word. They were just watching. I thought about those words let them in. I relaxed my shoulders and took my hands off the rolling pins, leaving it in the hands that were already touching it. Brayden began rolling the dough with a very proud look on his face. I turned to continue with the toppings. I looked slightly to my left to see that Kalen had taken over and they were peacefully watching each other have a go at this. The dough was looking great. They were actually doing a perfect job.

It was time to put the dough in the floured pan and roll out another dough for the second pizza. They took turns again rolling the dough out. Once the dough was ready in the pans, I opened the jar of sauce and began pouring it out on the dough. Each of the boys was asking to help spread it out. I gave Brayden the spoon, and then Kalen. We topped our pizzas and put them in the oven to bake. Brayden and Kalen scurried off with floured hands and shirts. I was left with two pizzas cooking, a mess, and the words let them in still echoing in my mind.

Throughout my day I have so many roles and opportunities. I get to be a wife, mother, daughter, friend, servant, teacher, painter, blog designer, cook, nurse, stylist, neighbor, housekeeper, reader, and more. With those opportunities, tasks and jobs come a lot of emotions. I am able to feel sad, happy, frustrated, tired, excited, motivated, angry, joyful, mad, and anxious. As I am learning on this road of motherhood, letting my children into whatever I am doing or feeling will reap great rewards and foster closeness. Brayden knew where the rolling pin was because I have dusted his fingers with flour before, and he has seen me pull out the rolling pin to make pizza or cookies. I let him in. I let him in on the joy of cooking. I let him in on the amount of work that goes into preparing homemade pizza that gets gobbled up in ten minutes. Earlier today I approached Madelyn, venting about how crazy our younger two were being and how it was wearing me out. We hugged and I felt comforted by my daughter. Letting her in on my life, feelings and thoughts allowed her to see the real me, a mom that is frustrated sometimes.

I sometimes don't want to let my children in. I want to be alone or work quicker at whatever it is I am trying to accomplish. There is nothing wrong with that, in my opinion. But, the joy of relaxing my shoulders, breathing deep and surrendering to those moments that I have the opportunity to let them in on what I am doing is just so meaningful. My children are delightful. I think that they should see me delighting in them. Each day I can choose to race to end of it, checking off all of the items on my list and shushing my children along the way. Or I could choose to enjoy the process. Must I be so hard-hearted or short-tempered? Aren't they worth the time and patience? Living, loving and learning as a family, it doesn't get any better than this, right? The process, Anna! The process!

Just before everyone bustled into the dining room for dinner tonight, I felt a little tug at my shirt. It was Brady. He said, "I pulled your chair out for you." It was odd coming from him; quite unexpected. As he pointed into the dining room, I looked and he had pulled my seat out for me. Tears came to my eyes as I pulled him into me. "Thank you, Brayden. I love you so so so much," I assured him. It was a nice visual picture for me. Brayden's act of kindness was an overflow of his heart. A heart that was thankful for me letting him in.

4 comments:

Chrystal said...

Thanks for the reminder! You are such a great mommy!!

Laura said...

thank you for this post. such a good reminder to me of slowing down, embracing the mess and the child's heart. thanks for writing this, friend.

Brooke said...

What a precious posting. I can resonate so much with your thoughts. It makes me think of how the Lord must feel sometimes too. He could get his job done so much quicker and better, but He "lets US in" be his hands and feet. And I bet He takes delight in that as well. ~Brooke

Kallie said...

This was an awesome post... especially the ending. It is ALL about capturing the heart of our children.