I wrote this last Friday morning and forgot to post it.
As I was sitting in my chair, finishing breakfast, and catching up on my blog reading this morning, I looked at the clock. It read 6:00 and thought to myself, “Just 5 more minutes, please?” knowing that I should be heading up stairs to start the sometimes daunting task of waking up the boys. Dealing with an 8 year old’s whining about not being able to get his sock on just perfect so that he can’t tell he’s wearing socks and a 2 year old’s whining about not wanting to get up. If it’s not that it’s 8 year old griping because we don’t have what he wants for breakfast and the 2 year old griping because I didn’t let him have his turn for opening the door or turning off the light.
But when I thought of “just 5 more minutes” it reminded me of my boys, who while swimming I’ll warn them they have 5 more minutes till we have to get out. And just as I did as a child, will beg for 5 more minutes even after the time is up. I feel like I’m always pleading with myself to just have 5 more minutes of peace and quiet in the morning time. Or 5 more minutes before I make myself go to bed for much needed sleep. Or 5 more minutes at work that I can cram in those 20 other things I need to get done. With such busy lives these days it seems like people are on a tighter schedule, running here, taking the kids there, dropping off the mail, or going to get groceries. I’m curious about times way back like when my grandparents were growing up. Surely, it wasn’t like that back then. When I think back to those days it seems as if they had all the time in the world to sit on the porch and sing or sit on the living room floor playing jax. How I wish I could sometimes have enjoyed relaxed care-free times like they had. Don’t you?