A Saturday to Remember
Today was a generally unremarkable Saturday, really. Our youngest stayed in her pajamas all day, as did her parents. We did laundry, cleaned the shelves in the refrigerator and finally moved it away from the wall to retrieve an apple that had fallen behind it weeks ago, worked on the taxes...just lounged around, drank coffee, and got things done.
What made it feel miraculous was the children and their angelic behavior. We woke at 5:45 AM to the sound of a hurried trip to the potty followed by the lighter footsteps of a smaller sibling. Thinking this was a poor start to our first Saturday at home together in six weeks, my beloved and I pulled the covers up tighter under our chins and did our best to delay the dawning day. And we did delay it...for another hour and fifteen minutes! The kids played contentedly without a single fight audible enough to disturb us that entire time. Wow.
When we came downstairs to start our Saturday pancakes, they were having such a good time that they barely acknowledged us. As I cooked breakfast, I put silverware and a water spray bottle on the table and asked our eldest to wipe up and place the forks and knives where they belonged. And he did, with nary a word of protest.
From breakfast, we proceeded to uninterrupted devotion to the spring cleaning of the fridge. (How DOES it get so greasy on top?) What had happened to our scrappy, rivalrous children? They were absorbed in play and in each other. It was amazing and bizarre.
The blessed peace continued through mid-morning tax prep and lunch, which we ate picnic-style on the living room floor so as not to muddle the artfully arranged 1099s and W-2s. This was, without a doubt, shaping up to be the most harmonious day we'd ever had. EVER.
The kids felt it, too. When I came back downstairs after putting our daughter down for a nap, our son looked at me and said, "I love you, Momma."
"I love you, too, honey," I said and hugged him.
"I love you even more than you think I do, Momma," he added. "I even love you more than I think I do."
And that is the glory of a Saturday with nothing special to do. Even people whose entire lives are devoted to play revel in it. You don't need errands to run and formal family activities to make the day feel productive or special. All you need is love.
What made it feel miraculous was the children and their angelic behavior. We woke at 5:45 AM to the sound of a hurried trip to the potty followed by the lighter footsteps of a smaller sibling. Thinking this was a poor start to our first Saturday at home together in six weeks, my beloved and I pulled the covers up tighter under our chins and did our best to delay the dawning day. And we did delay it...for another hour and fifteen minutes! The kids played contentedly without a single fight audible enough to disturb us that entire time. Wow.
When we came downstairs to start our Saturday pancakes, they were having such a good time that they barely acknowledged us. As I cooked breakfast, I put silverware and a water spray bottle on the table and asked our eldest to wipe up and place the forks and knives where they belonged. And he did, with nary a word of protest.
From breakfast, we proceeded to uninterrupted devotion to the spring cleaning of the fridge. (How DOES it get so greasy on top?) What had happened to our scrappy, rivalrous children? They were absorbed in play and in each other. It was amazing and bizarre.
The blessed peace continued through mid-morning tax prep and lunch, which we ate picnic-style on the living room floor so as not to muddle the artfully arranged 1099s and W-2s. This was, without a doubt, shaping up to be the most harmonious day we'd ever had. EVER.
The kids felt it, too. When I came back downstairs after putting our daughter down for a nap, our son looked at me and said, "I love you, Momma."
"I love you, too, honey," I said and hugged him.
"I love you even more than you think I do, Momma," he added. "I even love you more than I think I do."
And that is the glory of a Saturday with nothing special to do. Even people whose entire lives are devoted to play revel in it. You don't need errands to run and formal family activities to make the day feel productive or special. All you need is love.
posted by Lisa Strandberg at 8:12 PM
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