Isaac stands by me trying to tell me about his newest Lego creature. Susanna competes with his volume as she loudly proclaims her disappointment in my channel choice–the news.
It’s Saturday morning: I try to catch bites of the outside, adult world.
Donald Trump: “I think out of all my good qualities, my temperament is my best quality.”
Susanna: I want to watch Daniel Tiger!
Ben pouts on the couch because there isn’t enough room around me for him to sit by me too. Abby lounges nearby, asks me a question about an issue she is mulling over.
Is it ok to say oh my word? she asks. Or is it disrespectful to God?
I mull over the answer while Susanna clamors on about Daniel Tiger. I ask Abby to turn it on in my bedroom.
These guys don’t believe in God, Isaac tells me indicating his Lego creatures, but they believe in, like, a Dino god.
Guys! This is interesting! They are talking about bombs! From Ben, now over his seating grudge, indicating the news.
“Mommy? I want to tell you something else about these guys. See these claws? He can close them up to make them kind of rolly so he can go really fast, like the Flash. Are you looking, Mommy? This tail right here is upgraded with gold.”
I switch my gaze back and forth between Isaac’s unending commentary on the qualities of his creation and the news segment which is about how to have a better morning with your kids.
See these bumpy things on his legs? They are for…
“If you get up before your kids, it will make a big difference in your attitude. . .”
And this part of his tail is really important for when he is attacked…
“Some parents have their children sleep in their clothes to save that time in the morning…”
Mommy, think how hard it would be to change this guy’s diaper…
“And be sure to pack lunches the night before…”
and think how big his poop would be!
I know why I can’t remember where I put the coffee creamer. My brain is full to the brim, and it simply cannot keep any extraneous details. I read an article this week that claims your brain sifts out that which is not vitally important, releasing that info into… well, I don’t know exactly where.
I disagree with my brain. The location of the coffee creamer is vital.
At any given time, I might be thinking about a bossy 3 year old, a sensitive 5 year old, an inquisitive 8 year old, a tender 10 year old, English 2, 3, 4, when is the next date night, or what’s for dinner.
Life is full and big and beautiful and messy, but sometimes I need to sit in a room where no one talks to me. Sometimes I can’t hear my own voice over all the voices talking to me. I don’t know whether I’m happy or sad or content or lonely because I’m too busy attending to all the immediate needs. And trying to decide if I need to address Isaac’s atheist dinosaurs.
Brain Soup. Pass the coffee creamer, please.