Sandy childhood

I sit on the sand and watch the kids play in the waves. I read in the shade as they splash in the pool. I pull weeds or read as they jump giggling on the trampoline. We have a shelf full of games that I am so reluctant to play.

When did I start observing their childhood instead of diving into it with them? How could I, a homeschool mom devoted to being with her family end up mising it? Of course there are times when we cook or sew and school is always "together" but, today as I sat contently on a towel at the beach, safe from sandy childhood, I wondered how the girls would look back at my interaction with them. Would they remember that I created great moments for them and sat as they enjoyed them or that I jumped at the opportunity to enjoy those moments with them? Will the remember me for instruction more than fun? Will they remember a smile on my face?

It is true that I am the Great Facilitator. I make hobbies and memories and events and education happy for other people. I think that is why I have felt content to sit back and observe. "My work here is done. I deserve a rest."

I am not beating myself up. I know that I give and expend and I think I do a good job with my children. I think that they feel loved and appreciated and valued. I know that I need time to pursue things that are valuable to ME. ( more to come on that)

But it has been nagging at me that I am missing opportunities to be with my girls, not just around them. So I am asking God to change my heart. To give me a passion that wants to jump out of my chair and put myself in the picture with them. To make sure that they see my desire to be with and enjoy them. To do more than just facilitate their childhood.

So today, I jumped up. I caught periwinkles in the sand as the waves washed back out. I dug a hole and let it fill so that my oldest could enjoy a temporary pool. I buried both girls neck-high in the sand and all the while we giggled and chatted and were really together. I didn't come away from that time anymore physically tired than if I had sat and read the whole time and my heart felt full and joyful because of my effort.

They were amazed by me and I was amazed by them. I think I take the time to wonder at their uniqueness, but maybe I don't let them in close enough to let them wonder at me. I was ashamed that they were so charged by my involvement. That nagging feeling had been right, I was missing it and they were missing me.

I resolved today to be a mom of action, of fun. Of joining in and getting sandy. Of savoring every moment. Of being close, not just close by.