Home Stay

It was another morning…..I woke from a deep sleep by the sound of my 5-year-old running down the hall and slamming open our bedroom door.

“We have got to tighten the screws on that door knob; it’s about to fall off,” I thought as I wiped drool from the right side of my face.

Simms was my alarm for yet another morning. He is a morning person. It’s like he already had five cups of coffee. I know; letting my son wake me up….lazy parenting….I should have waken up an hour ago, had five cups of coffee and read my Bible. What’s it to ya?

Simms asked to crawl up in bed with me and I quickly obliged. He won’t want to snuggle for that much longer so I’ll take all I can get. I worked full-time his first year of life, missed his first steps; yep I got a call at work from his babysitter and found that out, and I am sure many other firsts that I have blocked out of my memory; so now I will hold him as long as he will let me. A few minutes later we heard my baby girl on the monitor. She is also a morning person. I do not know where our kids got that gene, but not from us. She will gurgle, talk, and cough till someone will get her. Then as soon as I enter her room a smile takes over her entire face.

I get up, ungracefully, with morning breath and make my way to the bathroom.

“I have to clean this place up today,” I thought.

I brush my teeth, put a sports bra on, and throw on a t-shirt dress. I contemplate putting on underwear…they are so binding….but then begrudgingly decide to put some on. I then pull my red hair half-way back, and go get my little baby.

After I feed Evie the world is finally coming into focus and I decide it is time for coffee.  I need my caffeine. A headache is coming on already and I need it. I need it with cream and sugar, and with this 97 degree heat in the south, iced.  I need it. I need it. I need it like the air I breath. I am starting to sound like an addict, but I need it. I need the taste, I need that jolt, I need it.

This is my routine every morning.

I place Evie in her little bassinet and push it out to the living room, let Simms watch some cartoons, and curl up on the left corner of the couch and watch my kids.

As I am sitting there I look at our 12-year-old carpet, like it’s my child about to get a spanking and dream about hardwood floors one day.

I let my mind wander some more. I dream of writing from home and having a New York Times best-seller, I dream of finally organizing our walk-in closet perfectly and it staying that way (yea right!), I dream of taking the family on vacation for an entire week without a budget (I know, not very practical), I dream of having no debt, I dream of a perfectly manicured lawn and flawlessly decorated house of vintage finds, but then my mind wanders to a time where I used to dream of THIS. Sitting on the couch, with my beloved coffee and staying home with my even more (if you can believe it) beloved kids. Watching them grow and learn, laugh and love, and not missing a solitary moment.

So here’s to dreams, living your dreams, and having them come true. Here’s to storing those dreams and treasures where it matters….in Heaven with my Maker. The Maker of truth and everything else.