Tuesday, June 5, 2012


"I want to water, Mama, let me!"

I straighten up from where I'm weeding around the onions, shield my eyes and glance at the sky.  Great black thunderheads, rolling in.

"I don't know, honey...it's getting ready to rain in a bit."

What I really mean is - why do a job when it is already done?  Why drag out the house and spend time on the unnecessary?  But that's Mom-talk. I forget who I'm dealing with.

"Please mom? Please? I want to water!"

He's tugging at the hose now.  What could I really say?

I watch him, spraying himself more than the plants, and think on a life of doing things over and over and over.  Again and again.

Life with kids is like that.  And I'm not just talking about the constant keep up, either.  I'm talking about having to change his shirt halfway through the day because his very favorite train shirt lies warm in the clean laundry basket.  The book that just begs to be read again, right after you finished it the first time.  Re-bathing the baby you bathed this morning, after he stood knee deep in the mud, grinning like anything.

Its the "under dog" push on the swing set, one is never enough.  It's that second scoop of ice cream.  The second ride on the Merry-Go-Round.  It's singing that lullaby once again, because one day you know he won't ask.

It's repeating yourself again and again and still being a soft place to land when they find out the hard way to listen to your warnings.

Again and again.  There is no "done" in mothering.  No way to check off the tasks of raising a person.  Just when you think they've "got it," they can throw you a curve ball and ask for just one more try.

The beautiful thing about the constant repetition in mothering is that, when they clamor loud "Again! Again!," we get a second chance, too.  A second chance to watch them in that moment of discovery.  A second chance to see that look in their eyes.  A second chance to relive these little moments that make up the sum of  why we do what we do.

Back inside, Peter is practicing those first few steps.  Step, step, step, boom (crashing down).  The kids all stand around, their faces full of light.  "Mom, he's walking!  He really is!  Do it again, Peter!  Again!"  I lean against the door frame and watch him and realize that, no matter how many times I do this, it feels new.  Again and again, I'm discovering that, in the repetition, I'm reliving the moments.

Again and again.


  1. I love this one!! I enjoy all of your posts of course, but this is one that really speaks to me lately. I feel like I've come a long way with being more present and flexible and this entry is a wonderful reinforcement/encouragement to do more. <3 Beautiful stuff, Lyd.

  2. Thanks! You also reminded me of this quote from G.K. Chesterton:

    Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we."


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