Do You Move Towards Magic Or Turn Away From It?

It could have been magic, but I turned away.

It had been a long day. Kyen kept me up most of the night with his snoring (he was sleeping with us because of his cold). I spent an hour cooking a homemade veggie burger that was bland and not worth the big mess in my recently cleaned kitchen. The dogs were barking to go outside, even though they had been out just 45 minutes earlier. And Mav was dumping every one of his toy baskets onto the floor, which I would inevitably clean up later.

I was frustrated and crabby and realized I needed a shift in mood. So I turned Mumford & Sons’ new album on and started jamming while I cleaned. Ky heard the music and immediately started dancing too, swaying side to side with a big sweet grin on his cheeky round face. Still with a dancing bop in his step, he toddled over and reached for me. I reached for the cutting board and placed it in the sink. He lowered his arms and kept on toddling by, this time without a groove in his step.

Right there I felt it. I knew it. I had missed an opportunity. Tears filled my eyes and I scooped him up before he knew what was happening. I held him close, turned the music up, and danced around the kitchen with him. We twirled and bopped and giggled and swayed. My heart was full of joy, my cheeks full of tears.

I am not sure why I got so emotional. It could have been the lack of sleep. It might have been that having lunch with Stacy and Michelle earlier that day triggered and re-opened the raw emotional state we experienced on our trip together in India. It might have been this simple realization:

I was experiencing both sadness and joy. I wondered, how many times had Kyen reached for me and I turned away? How many times had I chosen a clean room over precious moments with him? How many times had I missed out on a moment of joy in order to check something off my to do list?

It’s a hard balance. Because we have to pick up the house, and we should enjoy our family. I have to sleep, and my boys go to bed just 45 minutes before I do. There is little time for it all.

But I made a vow right then and there that I wouldn’t turn away from those sweet moments. In fact, I would turn towards them and seek them out. I would sing and dance and enjoy my boys because that’s the important stuff. I forgave myself for the earlier incident, remembered this learning, and moved on.

The beautiful thing is that if we catch a missed opportunity for magic or find ourselves checking out, we can change it right away. We can take a different course. It’s never too late for magic. Ever.

I want to leave you with a poem my mom had crocheted and framed in the house I grew up in, that I later learned is part of a longer poem called “Song for a Fifth Child” by Ruth Hulbert Hamilton:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow,

For children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs.

Dust, go to sleep.

I’m rocking my baby

And babies don’t keep.

How do you ensure you don’t miss out on the magic of your children, or those other special moments in your life? Please share in the comments below!

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