When I came into work on Monday morning my hair still smelled of Sunday night’s campfire. I had washed it, but the smokey smell clung. Tucked into the back woods of Virginia we had cooked up a storm of hotdogs, burgers, boys at their battle stations, and s’mores. Fellowship by firelight with a bunch of families. Delicious.
And even after the bedtime scrub down checking the boys for ticks and then following with my own wash, rinse and repeat, the smoke lingered.
It was great.
Because this Monday I took Sunday night to work with me. In my memory, long hair, and the flesh-and-blood form of my four-year-old son. A public holiday from preschool, but a work day nontheless for mama, Jackson donned his bomber jacket and joined me in the fray.
We started it off right with a breakfast date: powdered sugar on top of French toast on top of scrambled eggs on top of bacon. It was almost unsettling to have such focused time with him and his bright blue eyes without the constant distraction of a 22-month-old breathing down my neck. We chatted and giggled nervously and whispered our “I love you’s” over tea that he pronounced, “sooo good.”
It warmed me in that spot that is between a mother’s heart and her tummy. Right in the baby gut. Because as I sat and listened to him talk, describing definitively why he would prefer to be a panda bear as opposed to a polar bear (due to their respective choices in climate) I realized that he is not my baby anymore. He is becoming my boy on his way to becoming his own boy.
He wouldn’t hold my hand when we crossed the street on the way back to the office.
He wouldn’t let me zip up his jacket.
He shows me his muscles and wows me with the length of his legs, tippy toes nearly touching the end of the bed. He is growing up and proud of it. There seems to be an ocean vast and deep between three years old and four. My little wants-to-be-a-man needs me to help him on that journey.
So I step back and watch when I wish I could help. I watch him battle his way through introductions to strangers, power struggles between friends and the understanding of what it means to lie and what it means to tell the truth. We practice prayer together. And I cling to the Father’s reassurance that my few hours of intense parenting will make up for the many more we spend apart; that I am called to these early mornings and my daily commute as an act of sacrifice for my family:
She gets up while it is still dark;
she provides food for her family.
Proverbs 31:15.
I drive a lot. Ironically, it’s not that far. Rather, I measure the distance in the square foot of gridlock it takes to get from home to work and back again. The scenery is remarkable. But it can lose some of its charm when you are watching it go by in slow motion.
But tomorrow when I drive, I will have that powdered sugar face and those inquiring blue eyes in mind. The extra perspective on my ordinary commute. And Jackson, my love, I would drive a thousand miles for you.
So, so achingly sweet. Yes, moms must sacrifice for their families. I am glad you feel God’s reassurance that you are doing the right thing for your family. You are treasuring precious times with your sons and that’s what it’s all about!
Thanks. Really. Every encouragement is like gas in the car!
Holy Beltway Batman, I KNOW that commute. I remember sitting on 395 wishing I could just get out and run, knowing it would be 100% faster.
We’ve since moved very far north, where a mile means a minute and not an hour. (But I realize it would be inappropriate to gloat about that right now). :-)
Either way-I echo Charity’s encouragement–you’re doing what you’ve been called to do, and it’s a High calling, even when it means you spend as much time in the car as you do with your children.
395 and I are NOT friends. But my flex hours help me beat the worst of the beltway blues (most days). And when there are bear hugs and slobby kisses waiting on the other side of gridlock – into the fray you go! (And my sincere thanks for keeping the gloating to a bare minimum ;)
Great post. I live very close to your corner of the world. The photo is a very familiar view.
Thanks! It’s always nice to know others are familiar with the landscape one is describing in a blog. And I sure love me some DC – bad traffic and all!
It is hard being a working mom, isn’t it? I arrive at work and count down the hours until I see her next. I continually try to remember that God put me here, right here at work, this very day to His will. And although it pains me to leave my little girl, it brings me joy to know I am serving my King….that is the most important (although not the easiest).
Thank you for sharing this…it brings joy to me, a working mom…
It’s always so encouraging to hear from other working moms. It takes a special brand of courage I think to get in the car and drive away for a day. I can only do it knowing I am leaving them behind in the hands of the God that made them and cares for them (amazingly) more than even me! Hang in there – here’s to Fridays!
I am so so blessed that I don’t have to endure these commute hours.
But as you say, it is all in the perspective.
It sounds like you make more of the time away and together than many do.
Wishing you continued flex time and smoky hair memories… loved that !
Yes – here’s to all the great moments of motherhood – smoky hair and all! Thank you!
I love your outlook! You’ve encouraged me to keep a proper perspective. I think I would complain a lot if I had to deal with serious traffic.
Thanks. But believe me, perspective or not, there are some days when I complain loud and often! It’s kind of a package deal. The one helps balance out the other :)
I soooo get this. My two year-old has left me — for his father. It’s so fun to watch those two strutting their masculinity around the house … but hard, too, to see all of the ways he’s losing his “babyness.”
Oh yes, boys and their dads, I tell you! Me and one of mine were half way through our date breakfast when he gazed at me across his scrambled eggs and said wistfully, “I miss Da Da.” Good grief! What’s a mom to do? Bring out the powdered sugar french toast, baby!!