There's a quote I've been repeating over and over in my head lately. It's by David O'McKay, "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." I've been saying it over and over, just like Mallary has to listen to her favorite songs on repeat;While I'm driving: "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." While in the shower: "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." When I'm about to lose my mind with Mallary: "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." When I'm working: "No other success can compensate for failure in the home."<>
"No other success can compensate for failure in the home." "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." "No other success can compensate for failure in the home." "No other success can compensate for failure in the home."
You get the idea.
There are just so many things I want to do, to create, to experience, to achieve... my bucket list is very, very long.
Last night when we went to bed, I told John it was a little depressing that I can't accomplish all that I want to.
"You just try to do too much," he said.
That may be true, but I want so badly to do all those things.
Fast forward to today, October 13, 2010...
And that is where that post ended.
For a couple of weeks I repeated that quote over and over to myself. And over and over and over. Seriously.
I know, I know. "There's a time and season..." But, I want that time to be now, and that season to be summer. Summer's always the most fun, right?
The repeating of the quote must have worked, because I've slown down quite a bit. I don't stress over not being able to get more done quite as much. Would I like to have my house spotless, get more work done, and have more parties (I know. Only I would complain about not having enough parties!!!)? Of course! But, 'no other success can compensate for failure in the home.' The dishes can wait, and so can that zipper headband. There's a diaper to be changed, and a two year old that wants to snuggle. They won't be here forever, and I'll be an empty nester before I know it. I don't want to miss anything, and I think I have been.
A couple of weeks ago, Mallary was playing with the play kitchen, and pretending to cook food. She walked by me, and I asked her if she would come give me hugs. She said no, and I said, "Come snuggle with me!" Her response, "I can't, I'm cooking." And there it was. A flash back to the one hundred times I have told her that.
Lately, I've been trying to really listen to what my kids are saying to me. They'll ask me to do something, but really what they are saying is, "come spend time with me!" I've been making a conscious effort to slow down, so that I can hear them when they're saying that.
As a kid, I used to put on shows in our living room. I didn't have an audience very often, but I would yell to my mom in the kitchen, "I want to show you something!" I keep in mind her responses as my kids ask for similar things.
"Let me rinse off this last dish, and I'll be in."
"Just a second, let me wash my hands."
I can picture her so clearly, entering the living room by way of the dining room, drying her hands on a towel, sitting on the couch, watching me with a smile on her face. I was the most important thing in that moment.
I want my children to have similar memories of me.
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