Hand on the mouse, eyes on the computer, I asked the child standing closest to me,
"Honey, would you get me my hairbrush please?"
She brought and said, "I'll give it to you in exchange for a hug."
Again,
that article came to mind.
Slow down, focus on your kids! They want you, they need YOU!
In other words,
A child cannot kiss a moving target!
Yep, it's time to make some changes.
Let me just say first technology is a gift and a blessing. However, a person can
love it too much.
It is a gift, meant to serve those around me.
It is a gift, meant to serve those who read my blog and
my book, and my future books, if there are any.
But sometimes, I use it to neglect those around me, and simply to entertain myself.
Seriously, self, do you really need to check facebook at the park?
Right now, I have very few boundaries around my own technology use.
And what has been the result?
I'm constantly connected.
I'm constantly entertained, if not by my children, by my connections.
I check the easy things off my list, and I ignore the harder things.
I do the "urgent" things, and quickly, to get back to the fun things.
Quite often, I completely forget the important things.
No, I am not going to stop writing or blogging. It would be impossible for me not to write- I am simply built this way. However, I am reassessing the time I spend with and away from my children (mentally,) and even more than that, I am trying to pay attention to the time I spend both with AND away- "multi-tasking," but really just scattered, and distracted.
I am slowly coming to realize, that when I do not deliberately focus on loving and serving the people around me, I simply give my attention to
whatever is most interesting or entertaining at the moment.
That, friends, is not love.
(Father, forgive me for sacrificing what is important to do what is fun. Forgive me for misusing the gift of technology, for being distracted and selfish. Forgive me for Jesus' sake. Focus my heart for me Lord. Teach me to love You and love others. By your grace, give me strength and wisdom as I seek to make changes according to Your will. Amen.)
Baby step: A disconnected morning
I started the day with a talk with my girls.
"Girls, you know how we've been talking about how important it is to
fill buckets? (ie, love people) Well, I have to ask you something, and you can answer just how you feel, I won't be mad. Do you think mama spends too much time on the computer instead of filling your buckets?"
The girl on my right nodded emphatically. She said nothing though, her eyes were wide. I think she was wondering how I would react. She's the one who asks me to jump on the trampoline with her at night when the boys are in bed. She's the one who hates it when I sit at my computer and say "Not this time, honey."
The girl on my left said she didn't think so. "Mama, you fill people's buckets when you write, too. So it's OK if you are on the computer."
Wow. I really didn't expect that.
I agree with her, actually. This is why I am not cutting out all technology or anything crazy like that. It's important for me to write, and connect, and email. I
do see it as a ministry.
However.
"Girls, did you know my family is my number one job? Number ONE. So that other stuff, while it is good, I don't want it to come before family unless it absolutely has to. So as much as I like doing that other stuff, I'm going to try to start doing it a little less, especially when I'm also trying to spend time with you. Does that sound good?"
They both smiled. Huge.
"See, sometimes it's easy for mommy to have my hands full of things that aren't really that important, and then I can't use my hands to hug you and tickle you and stuff like that. And I don't want it to be that way, OK?"
I tickled them, and they giggled.
"Here's the deal. I'm going to let you try to help me with this. It's going to be hard for me. I'm going to give you permission to remind me that we had this talk."
Their eyes danced. I immediately felt the need to reign them in. I could tell they were making plans for me. Too many plans.
"Now, that doesn't mean you can nag me. It doesn't mean I'm never going to use my phone or send an email. And I'm not going to say yes to a bounce on the trampoline EVERY night. I will still get tired."
One girl snorted, "Yeah, you have to deal with those boys all day. Of
course you will get tired!"
It is so nice to be understood. I love my daughters.
"So, if you see me on my phone or emailing when we are spending time together, like at the park or something, I want you to ask me one question:
Mama, can that wait?"
"Sometimes it can't wait. Sometimes I'll say no, and I'll just keep doing what I'm doing. But lots of times, it can wait, and I want you to help me make those other things wait so I can spend more time with my eyes and hands and heart focused on you."
I squeezed their hands, and they squeezed back, tight.
I sent my accountability buddies off to school, and then I told my stay-at-home boys a little less. "Mommy wants to spend time with you boys today. What do you want to do? Let's make a list."
In my head, I resolved: No computer until naptime.
I am an addict. It was hard, but I did it. And I noticed how often I almost went to the computer, or the phone, just out of habit. I do hope this will get easier.
But I am inspired to keep on trying, especially when I consider,
If my hands had been full of junk, I would have missed...
- the girls' joy, when I asked them to hide with me on the
front porch so we could talk
- their inside info, about who used to fall asleep in
kindergarten, and who fell asleep in math class
- the little bumps on her nose, reminding me that she is
growing so fast, and I'd best teach her to wash her face at night. Sigh, she probably has my bad skin.
- the way they are happy to give me running hugs, even in
front of their friends
- the three year old spilled, for the second time in five
minutes, but he cleaned it up quietly, all by himself.
- the baby, climbing on my back and playing with my hair
while I read the Bible
- the big boy, capable of being the record-keeper, the list
writer for the day
- the ridiculousness of my angry words, "It is NOT
polite to play the harmonica when someone is giving you a lecture!" His
suppressed smirk, and then my laugh, and we all laugh.
- One asked me if I had a pair of "garden
mittens" for him. The other joked, "what are you, a Tom Girl?"
- Breathing in the sweet smell of honeysuckle, and
realizing he calls it "Honey- snuckle!"
- I had to untie a tight knot so I sent a child to get me a fork to help. He returned with a fork and a butter knife. "Mommy, can I be coyote? I promise I won't hurt anyone with the knife!"
It wasn't all cute and fun, don't get me wrong.
For instance, there was a major mess:
And I was out of paper towels. And it was spaghetti-sauce mixed with glass. I was "fully present" for the cleaning up of the mess, but it wasn't fully fun. The little culprit watched me, quietly, and finally said in a small voice, "Me not do that again."
Also, the wrestling match was a short one. I was chasing a boy, running full-speed, and I slipped on a transformer costume. I landed flat on my back on the concrete floor. It probably looked hilarious, but not one of them laughed.
"Are you OK mama?"
"I'm... not sure. Just let me sit here for a minute."
They only gave me about a minute and a half before the littlest ones climbed on me again.
(I'm mostly OK.)
While I laid there, I wondered,
Would the kids know how to call for help if you are unconscious on the floor?
Later, the pain in
my back reminded me to teach my little boys emergency procedures. It turns out,
my oldest boy knows his daddy's phone number and 911, but he didn't know how to turn on
my phone. I'm glad he knows now.
They watched the bread machine work.
"The bread is dancing!"
"Why can't we hear the yeast burping?"
One morning, cut off from technology. What did I observe?
I noticed many precious moments I would have missed.
I also noticed a few hard things I wold have gotten to skip (like the crash on the floor and the messy kitchen help.)
I won't say my day was easier.
But it was more focused. Less scattered.
And I was more available to my children.
I prayed more.
Read more.
Breathed more.
Try it, won't you?
Think. Pray.
Ask yourself: Can it wait?
If you struggle with this, I'd love to hear from you.
If you've conquered this, I'd love to hear from you, too.
If you have blogged about it, please leave your link below.
(You don't have to link back to me, but it's always appreciated!)
