Celebrate This Week No. 228
My kids had a snow day this week and I was on an eLearning day. We have a crazy rule about limited screen time in our house, even on snow days, even when I have to work. I know it would be easier if I just let them play video games and watch Netflix and consume YouTube.
They still grumble about the screen time rules, but they hush quickly with the gentle reminder that griping will only get them less screen time rather than more.
“What are we supposed to do then?” Jordan asks.
“Something that isn’t about consuming in front of a screen. If you can’t find anything or you’re bored, I can give you extra chores,” I say.
The other kids quiet Jordan. “We’re good,” they say.
I settle in for work. Soon Sam is on the floor with paper, a pen and the Sorry game. “I’m rewriting the rules to make Sorry Death Match,” he giggles an evil laugh. I focused on work.
Then they are all on the floor in front of me and Sam is explaining the updated rules for Sorry. At first I’m perturbed. They know I’m working today. I pause before I say anything.
In that pause, I recognize the gift that is before me. My teenagers are playing a childhood game together. They are choosing to be in the same room as me. They are taking time to be together. They aren’t bickering. They are making it easy for me to work.
Instead of chasing them away from “working mom,” I smile.
I take a picture for evidence that in the middle of a rocky journey of healing, there are moments of sweet goodness. There are many other moments from the week that were disheartening, but this moment gives me hope.
This moment they choose to be together and near me. This moment is evidence of healing and love. There’s nothing I’d rather celebrate.