Grateful for the Minutes

Are you here to read a Farmer Show and Tell post about Hawaii? Today you're gonna have to wait. Until later. It's coming. Sometime after this one.

I could be one of those moms. You know, the moms that have the clanky key chains clipped around their purse strap with the gazillion photos in the plastic 2x3 frames? Or those moms with colossal round picture buttons, safety pin in back, clipped to their purse?

I almost could be one of them. But my kids aren't in team sports yet. And my purse is usually stuffed deep in my diaper back pack. And I don't have clanky plastic frames or colossal picture buttons.

I never wanted to be them. Those moms were crazy in love with their kids. And I was crazy in love without children at the time.

I'm a different person now. My heart is Gushing With Love for my kids! And I have a blog. And I have readers, all 52 of you that showed up here yesterday, for a total of 70 page hits. That means a lot of you aren't commenting. And that's ok. I see you anyway. Hubs is trying to talk me into doing some favorite Hawaii giveaway stuff. Maybe. But we're not talking about that right now. Unless you leave a comment and make me. Back to my Gushing With Love heart....

About a year ago I was putting Son1 to bed. In his prayer he thanked God "for da minutes." I may have even interrupted him. For the what? "FOR DA MINUTES!" What minutes? Were they learning to tell time in preschool? Had he been in time out? He had a one line, don't you get it, Mommy, answer. "FOR DA MINUTES!" I asked the teacher the next day. She thought and thought. "Well, I do tell the kids, 5 minutes until clean up time, or in ten minutes we are doing this or that." She laughed. Not at me, of course. She laughed at Son1's cuteness.

Here we are, a year later. And I understand his prayer just a little better. I am so grateful for the minutes, because that is just what they are, minutes, tiny blips of time, here so briefly.

Preschool is within walking distance from our house. In the mornings, as long as it's not raining, we walk. Most of it is uphill. Some of the time Son1 thinks the sun is too bright, or he is too tired to walk, or he whines he needs a little rest.

With his little hand in mine, I am grateful for the minutes. His hand won't be little forever. It won't always reach for mine. But it does now. I speak coaxing and encouraging words, telling him we can make it. He throws his arms around me in a huge bear hug, and I am grateful for the minutes in the mornings, even if they involve struggles. He is doing his job, testing the limits. And I'm doing mine, setting the limits.Hubby just chopped down an apple banana tree after an open house because I talked him into the Eye Candy Principle. We have lots of these trees. Some kids tote apples for the teacher. Son1 hauled apple bananas, the sweet tropical bananas. Okay, he didn't haul them. I put them in the stroller basket. He helped his daddy collect the fruit from the tree. What a spectacular opportunity to live in Hawaii and chop down apple bananas from our own back yard!

I am grateful for the minutes. I am grateful that his daddy is his hero, grateful that he finds ways to be a helper. I am grateful for the time we have lived in Hawaii, counting it a privelege, bordering on a miracle.

We walked up a block, down a block, and started on the Big Uphill. Son1 turned and ran down the hill, defiantly, away from me. I started to say something. But he melted my heart.

"Mommy, I have to pick you some flowers!!!"

I am grateful for the minutes. I am grateful for my eldest son. I am grateful for his thoughtful, big heart, and the care he used to pick my flowers.

We arrived at his classroom, and his teachers greeted him eagerly. He proudly produced the bananas. Son2 started to fuss, and we started to walk out the door. Son1 dropped the wilted flowers gently on the stroller shade, and patted them carefully. I hugged and kissed him and promised I would take good care of my flowers. He beamed, relieved I read the thoughts of his heart.

I am grateful for the minutes. We are so blessed on these morning walks. We identify plants and birds, clouds, and different lawn ornaments. We spend uninterrupted time, just the two of us, talking about all we see. For just minutes.

We leave the school, and I start a new conversation with Son2. I pull the stroller shade back, and we find dogs, trees, cars, and more birds. He laughs and points, and utters the words he knows. We walk for an hour. Sometimes we both talk. Or sing. I love his jargon. Sometimes neither of us talk.

I am grateful for the minutes. I know he won't remember Hawaii exactly, but he will remember the things we have seen here when he sees them on the Big Rock. He is so curious, and I love him for that.

I am grateful for quiet minutes on the walk. Those are the minutes when I dream about our future, when I tell God what's on my heart, when I recite paper napkin scratch in my head. Some days I people watch. I dream stories up about other people I see on my walks. Other times I create mental lists. But the minutes today are quiet. I see things differently than the day before. For fun, I examine tree bark and estimate tree heights.

More minutes passed this day. Hubby came home early, and Son2 was taking a good afternoon nap. I walked up to school alone, and picked Son1 up after school. We walked a different way home. We found these beautiful blossoms, differently colored on the same vine. He told me God made them that way. I smiled. It started to sprinkle, but neither of us minded.I am grateful for these minutes. All of them. The pretty ones, the frustrated ones, the tiresome ones, and the whiny ones. It's a short season. Soon enough I will be grateful for the minutes, even when they disappear. I love these two little boys so much!! I am so grateful for the minutes with them!