Pancakes

There are so many days when I have to leave early for meetings, or when we are so distracted with work or tasks in the evening that we aren't entirely and completely focused on the kids. Sure, we do a family dinner and supervise homework and make sure they are (relatively) clean before getting into bed at night. But focused, dedicated time just to appreciate these boys? Admittedly, it doesn't always happen on weeknights.



So on the weekend, at the request of pancakes from my oldest, suddenly the world slows down. The work week and its challenges are far enough away that I can push them into another room in my mind. The house and its projects, the cleaning, and the chores all get pushed into yet another room. And I can just be present in this room, in this moment--watching these characters of mine do what they do best.

Alex buries himself in a book after his sleepy, just-rolled-out-of-bed request for pancakes. He pauses occasionally and gives me an update or he giggles out-loud. Other times I look up to find his forehead wrinkled with intense concentration. I remember loosing myself in books at a child and I love nothing more than to see him find the same pleasure and delight. In fact--I think I enjoy watching him read more than I love reading myself. And friends, that's saying a lot.

Jameson, on the other hand, wants contact and attention. He stands on a stool and requests tastes of all the ingredients. He talks about how hot the griddle is going to get, and makes observations about how different each of the pancakes are---plain for him, blueberry for Daddy and Mama, and chocolate chip for Alex. He talks about the size and shape of the pancakes. He nibbles from my measuring cup of blueberries, and discovers the sweet, cold taste of frozen blueberries. He becomes so fascinated that he hardly touches his pancakes when we finally sit down to eat. (I happily gave him several cups full of those blueberries, though) He chatters and talks, and I soak in his young voice. I know I may not remember all the words and every nuance of how he takes in the world around him on this cold day---but I hope I remember how his voice still sounds more like toddler than school-age.






On the surface, it appears that I'm making pancakes to bring some nourishment and joy to this wonderful family of mine, but in reality the whole process--the preparing, the eating, the conversations--nourishes me on so many levels of being. It is these moment of clarity and connection to these boys of mind that help carry me through the days when I have to dig a little deeper to stay present in the challenging moments or to go the extra mile.

I never anticipated the magic of these moments of motherhood, and I'm so grateful for them.