“Mommy, will you play with me?”
I can’t tell you how many times in a single day at home with the girls I field that question. And, unfortunately, I also can’t say how many times the answer is, “In just a minute. Mama’s busy washing dishes/folding laundry/(insert chore here).”
It really does hurt my heart to think that one of the lasting memories my girls might have of their mother are the words, “I can’t play right now” or “I’ll be there as soon as I finish this.”
So I’m working really hard to change that.
Because I’ve discovered that the house will not fall apart if I stop what I’m doing to play a game of sight word bingo or take them outside to ride bikes. It might be messier, more cluttered, outright disgusting some days (I’m talking to you, kitchen), but it will remain standing. And everyone will be fine. More than fine, actually, because these two little girls have their mother’s undivided attention, even just for a few fleeting moments.
One evening after dinner last week, Sophie begged (and begged and begged) to go outside and blow bubbles. I glanced over at the dish mountain in the sink. Eyed the globs of food stuck to her booster seat, the table, the floor. Remembered the wet laundry languishing in the washing machine.
And I said, “Yes. Let’s go!”
And we blew bubbles and laughed and took silly pictures. And it was wonderful.