I love staying at home and bumping shoulders with these little people all day long.
I do my best to not allow myself to get so busy at home that I don’t
spend intentional time with my kids.
That is what I want to chat about… intentional time with my kids.
This is where it gets sticky for me.
I love snuggling with my kids.
I (most of the time) devour the time I spend in the kitchen with them.
I sit and smile as I listen to them tell me stories and hear their imagination.
Ring-around-the-rosie… I could watch them all day long. Hand in hand- spinning about.
This is where I fall short- playing.
I am not a “sit on the floor and play farmer and ponies” kind of mom.
That doesn’t mean I don’t carve out time to do so,
but it isn’t my preference.
I don’t fill my “intentional time” with my kids with a bunch of child’s play.
There are, at times, pounds of mommy guilt that I place on my back from my lack of
interest in this type of “quality time” with them.
When the guilt gets too heavy, I try to put in perspective my purpose for being with them.
I know spending hours on the floor with them will not make me “mother of the year.”
It is the time I put into their hearts.
Digging deep to bury words of wisdom that they can extract later when they need them.
Teaching them life skills that they can put into use when they are in the trenches with their own families.
Loving them so fiercely that they can feel it.
I know spending hours on the floor with ponies and tractors is good,
but I know- without a doubt- that my time spent on the floor praying for their hearts
is what makes the true difference.
So, with that, I spend a few minutes with my deep, farmer voice plowing the carpeted fields
and then move forward knowing that my kisses and hugs make up for
my shortcomings in the imaginative play department.
Thank the Lord for grace… once again.