“Oh, your girls are just adorable!” Remarked the Jeweler. To this, Charlotte smirked and said, “Sissy just got in trouble.” Eva’s eyes widened, and I politely laughed, “And to think I was glad when she learned to talk.”
Hearing the steady beeping from my alarm clock, my feet hit the floor, ready to grab some much-needed quiet time before the girls and Tyson wake. Sitting in my chair upstairs, just opening my Bible, I hear Eva coming down the hall. “I wanted to come upstairs with you, Mom.” “That’s perfect,” I sarcastically stated. Next came Charlotte. I could hear the sound of pitter patter and my name being called as she climbed the stairs. I close my eyes and my Bible. The questions, needs, and wants began without warning. I added my usual wink to the Lord, reminding Him I would be back tomorrow. For now, I was called upon for hot chocolate with marshmallows all around.
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Before Sunday service, the morning progressed as usual; Chuck handled the breakfast and the kids while I headed off to ready myself for Church. I closed our bedroom door to the sound of silence, a short-lived reprieve before I heard Charlotte enter and become part of my Sunday dress. She busied herself in my closet, which she proudly displayed in high heels and pearls — clip-clopping around holding our cat Grady, who is as big as she is. Not long after, Eva came bounding into the room with her many questions that needed immediate answers. Chuck brought up the rear. He did not need a thing except to see what everyone was doing. I laughed silently to myself, realizing solitude was not to be found.
Working with my sister in the kitchen last summer, I remember her saying, “You don’t need to try so hard to make an impression on your kids that you miss the day-to-day because that is the impression they’re taking away.” This was a sweet reminder that life happens through interruptions and cups of hot chocolate.
Awaking early again the following day, I stood beside the stove, watching the flames flicker as my tea kettle warmed. A note sat next to my tea cup, “Wake me, Mommy, to go upstairs when you read your Bible.” I smiled at the childlike handwriting and misspelled words. There was nothing spiritual about it for her. She just wanted to be with me.
I thought about all the times I wanted to be with my mother. It didn’t matter what she was doing, in the kitchen making supper, ironing my father’s shirts, or running errands. I just wanted to be with her and visit. I enjoyed her company; I still do, and I loved her presence. Now, my children find the same comfort in my presence.
Time has passed, but my routine remains the same. The other morning, I tiptoed to the kitchen. All was quiet except for the creaking of the floor beneath my feet. Three children were sleeping soundly, five dogs were breathing heavily (outside), and a husband was catching some much-needed rest after Tyson’s midnight feeding—finally, a few moments without questions or cries.
Catching a glimpse of the snow shining in the predawn light and steam rising from my cup of tea, I headed upstairs to read. Before my foot hit the first stair, I heard, “Mommy!” Coming from Charlotte’s room. Eva ran across the hallway, racing to see what she needed. I crept in on them both and was met with two eager little girls who, once again, wanted to join me upstairs. Eva wanted to know if we could go ahead and begin painting and start on arts and crafts, while Charlotte was only concerned with watching Barney.
Over their questions, I heard Tyson begin to cry. I thought there for a second, I might join him. But then I gathered my composure and thought of the little note months earlier that sat by my tea cup and something my father told me, “Keep being the enforcer, the rule maker, and the permission giver, someday your children will be calling at 5 am as your friend, to mine out the diamonds you’ve stored away.”
Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daylight, He went out to a solitary place; and there He prayed. Mark 1:35
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