I waste more than thirty minutes a day.
Maybe you are much better at making your minutes count. Some days I struggle.
But at the end of the day, I look back and always see at least thirty minutes that could have been used differently. Usually more. It makes me a little frustrated with myself.
Because I could have given them to my girls.
What would those thirty minutes look like to them?
A board game after dinner...
Sledding next door in Grandma's field...
Reading aloud together on the couch...
Sounds an awful lot like love. And work. Because stopping what I'm doing to give my time to them is sometimes harder than it should be.
Why so hard?
Sometimes I'm tired.
Moms are busy. We have places to lug our kids around to and people to visit with and work to accomplish and meals to prepare and children to correct and guide and listen to. It's a lot in a day. But there is still time to do what's important, and spending time doing something together is important. Thirty minutes is not much. Even when I'm tired.
Sometimes I don't want to.
Board and card games are not my thing. Never have been. But I'm learning to get past whether or not I want to play and play anyway, with a happy heart. I don't have to love the game, I just have to love my girls. Sacrificially. Even when a game of Uno wasn't on my to-do list.
Sometimes I'm not happy with those I am playing with.
This is the biggest reason why I should play. When feathers have been ruffled and corrections have been the biggest part of my day, the last thing I want to do is sit down next to the one who has made my day long and hard. But what does that difficult little girl really need? Me. Doing something other than correcting. Something like reading or sledding or playing.
So tonight after dinner we'll sit down to play a game or color a picture or read a book.
Something that they enjoy. And I'll choose to enjoy it too. Because I enjoy them.