Big Rocks and Little Rocks

Every now and then, I can stop long enough to see that my life is passing me by.  I'm a goer and doer, I always have been.  I approach my to-do list with a pair of tunnel-vision glasses and have a hard time feeling accomplished unless I'm crossing things off.  This system worked for me before I became a mom.  Now, it's a failing system.  Failing because it's taking me away from the things that are of utmost importance.

Taking me away from my big rocks.

 

  
Like cooking.  

I haven't cooked for two weeks straight.  And instead of getting myself in the kitchen last night, I wasted over an hour gawking at pictures of amazing looking dishes from Pioneer Woman.  Roasted red pepper fettuccine, lemon blueberry pancakes, malted milk ball cookies.  My mouth watered and my nerves spiked.  Why can't cooking meals for my husband, setting the table nice every night, and taking my time putting dishes away be enough? 

And cleaning.

I used to love cleaning.  I still like to clean; however, hold a grudge toward anything that takes me away from playtime with Cruz.  I used to consider my house 'dirty' if my baseboards were dusty, my towels weren't hung 'just right,' or if my cans weren't stacked in alphabetical order in my pantry.  I'm slowly learning that I like things a little messy.  It adds a little color, a little spice, a little reality and humanity to our little abode.   

And looking good.

Lately, I've been counting down the days 'til the end of the school year for a variety of reasons.  One of them involves my lack of wardrobe.  It's been a rough go in the clothing department since having a baby.  This, plus the fact that the daily Victoria's Secret magazine sits staring at me from across the kitchen table as I drown my image sorrows in a delicious scoop of Cookies n' Cream ice cream, is no way to deal with a post-pregnancy body.  So, I woke up at 5 am, forced myself on the treadmill, and caught up on the news.  Who knew Arnold Schwarzenegger cheated on his wife and fathered a baby ten years ago?       
  
And them.   

My boys.  They're always there, reminding me that my world is much bigger than the everyday stresses of the last weeks of school.  They are there to cheer me on, make me laugh, and allow me to forget about the mindless distractions of all the little rocks in my life.  They're my life, my strength, and the center of my heart. 

So tonight, I climbed out from the pile of little rocks.  I made supper.  I set the table.  I spread a blanket out in the backyard.  I stacked wooden blocks and watched my little nugget try and figure out where the birds were.  At one point, he lost his balance and fell gently to his back.  His eyes became fixated on the tree branches above him.  I watched his face and felt absolute peace.

 

Later, I sat face to face with my baby boy in the recliner, TV off and windows open.  I let him push his face against my chest over and over again and played with the blond hair filling his head.  We sat there together, just taking each other in, and I soon forgot about everything else.  Babies will do that to ya. 

 

It's hard to change who you are.  A part of me feels like I will always struggle with trying to maintain a structured, do-it-all mentality.  It's just who I am.  And in life, ruts are inevitable; however, it's how long you choose to stay stuck in the rut that matters.  Last week, in our school's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People training, I learned that it's good to schedule, but it's what you choose to include in that schedule that matters.  Schedule your big rocks first, the things that matter most.  Whether it's knitting, biking, soaking in a tub, or cooking...these must take precedent over the little rocks.

I don't know where I'd be without my big rocks.