This, Too, Shall...Um... (2011)
I am sitting in the McDonald's drive-thru... completely drenched in all that is motherhood. I am multitasking my multitasks as I seek to feed the masses that travel in my Camry. Yes. This is how we roll.
The coolest 8 year old on the planet is sitting in my front seat going through his book bag. His mission? To find and complete homework in the car (because it's much more entertaining that way) all while rattling off his preferences for fine dining at Mickey D's... and singing a song, taking off his shoes and lamenting the heavy decision of a chocolate shake or frozen lemonade drink. (I wonder if he got ANY of my genes. I mean, IS there a choice other than chocolate?)
In my ear, a dear friend joins our fun via cell phone. We chit chat over everything from tornado relief efforts to collar bones that regret motorcycle rides... IEP meetings to meeting quotas... packing up and only taking fun people with us to the beach to doing the next right thing.
In essence, we, in 5 short minutes, make the world a better place... in a single, highly interrupted, "talk-with-your-mouth-full" sitting. (Yes, we amaze ourselves sometimes.)
As we talk I discover that the McDonalds order is correct... and then wrong...and then correct again... seemingly with the sole purpose of teaching me the difference between the common man's double cheeseburger (er, the dollar menu) and the high falutin' double cheeseburger that has its own snazzy name. I feel brighter just by traveling this path. Don't you?
Throughout my fast food learning curve, my 3 year old is sound asleep in the back seat. Now, it might seem that he is out of the loop-- somehow not in on the family multitasking magic. I assure you that's not the case. Every little snore that he snorts out actively reassures me that I will know what 3 a.m. looks like... again.
Without uttering a word, he reminds me of the day I made the big switch to decaf coffee... and that that orange rim on those coffee pots of unleaded java will haunt me for the next 24 hours. This whole dialogue appears to be his current choice of love language. (I swear that he smiled in his sleep as he multi-tasked his snoring.)
I pull to a parking space... cell phone glued to my ear as I try to avoid "cheek muting" my friend via touchscreen. I shovel a half attempt at healthy eating in my mouth (part fried chicken/part salad) while watching my oldest child delight in the joy of a chocolate shake before dinner. I try to pick my battles... and soon just find myself floating to the land of "This too shall pass."
The hustle and bustle of school nights... of just trying to get it all done... that will end soon. I've even heard rumor that the weekend will eventually come.
One day I will never again dart my car into a McDonald's drive-thru. On that very same day, I'm quite certain that my car will be all cleaned out, too, without the first glimpse of a Happy Meal toy in my floorboard.
In time, my grocery list will be free of pull ups, diapers and baby wipes. There will come a day when I'll understand every word that comes out of my 3 year old's mouth, too.
Eventually, I will sleep all night in my bed without little people climbing in there in the middle of the night. Yes, I will sleep again... and wake up one magical morning without a lego embedded in my back.
One day, I believe in my heart of hearts, that my purse will not have a single Thomas the Train settled in the bottom of it... and that the lipgloss in my purse will not have been used to paint Thomas the Train at any point in time.
I'm even going to go out on a limb and say that I will have a phone conversation again that does not involve a single interruption by a short person.
I may get highly ambitious and shoot for a trip to the bathroom... alone. (Okay, okay. I'm pushing it and I know it.)
Regardless, one day... every bit of this... it will all pass.
And all of a sudden, I'm not sure what to do with that.
Because I guarantee you that as soon as each of these things passes, there is a little piece of my Mommy heart that will want them all back.
As tired as I may ever get of the hustle and bustle, there is part of me that knows that THESE are the moments I was created for... that these moments may very well encompass my life's greatest work.
So, just for today, I'm relishing every moment of drive thru mania and car-seat craziness.
Just for this moment, I'm carrying wet wipes instead of polka dot, monogrammed tissue packs.
On this given Thursday, this girl is right where she's supposed to be... with homework still to be done, baths to still be taken, and laundry with my name on it.
Thank you, Lord, for your wonderful, zany blessings... and for allowing me to be the leader of this wonderfully, wacky pack... and thank you for Mickey D's. (God help me.)
May you make mistakes, crave peace, and dance in grace-