There are three toilets in my house. Let’s just call them Toilet, Tullet, and Terlet. Toilet is connected to what used to be the master bedroom. Tullet is in the center of the house and is typically covered in dirty laundry and toothpaste (I have four children, yet that bathroom holds a minimum of 11 toothbrushes-not sure how that’s a constant in my home). Terlet is on the opposite side of the house from Toilet. We once lived next to Toilet. Children would burst into our room, walk through our bedroom to use Toilet. As you may know, those of you who are still looking at the wretched wafer board that is still displaying its beauty (rather than some less-eye-sore siding – ahem Kent Butler), we converted our garage into a bedroom/office/peace place. It is connected to Terlet; the bathroom that was once the least used.
Now, all of a sudden everyone busts through our bedroom door just to use Terlet. Now all of a sudden, they need to come all the way to the other end of our house, take their shoes off and walk away. Now, all of a sudden, they need to change out of their wet bathing suits and leave them on our floor. I guess we’re still learning how to pick up after ourselves. I guess we’re still learning that mom and dad aren’t really that cool and there’s no need to follow them around.
We took the kids swimming yesterday. Nothing novel about that. We take them most days; however, on this day I was a magnet. If I go to the deep end; they are there. If I got to the shallow end; they are there. If I go to the middle of the pool; they are there. On this particular day, my girls argued constantly. Deep end – arguing; shallow end – arguing. Anywhere in between – arguing.
Dear children, I love you, but please go anywhere in this pool that is not close to me.
I guess we’re still learning how to get along and communicate well.
I’m sitting in my peace place that has a perfect view of my street. Currently, it looks like a tornado hit due to every single tree on the east side of the block being chopped down. But once upon a time, the trees stood strong. Blocking my front porch from the morning light. Giving me a break from the Mario-death-sun as I finished a run in way too much sunshine. Once upon a time the trees dropped branches here and there that we’d run over and pick up to use as sticks for s’mores or the kids would run grab some so that they could start a fire with some solid kindling. Once upon a time I noticed how cool pine tree shadows are and it was just another reminder of God’s good creation.
We walk through this life and sometimes we’re the ones making the decisions (good or bad); sometimes we’re the ones impacted by other people’s decisions (good or bad). Decisions that may make our life better. Decisions that make life a bit more ugly. That makes us bitter; angry. Joyful. Content. Decisions that make life harder; easier. Decisions that hurt people; that help people.
A few weeks back, Everly had corrected J on how he was saying something. J was adamant that he was saying it correctly. She wasn’t convinced. “He’s just learning,” I said. Everly over here trying to master a roundoff, back handspring, back tuck. She’s just learning. Tying shoes, make up, curling hair, friends, they’re just learning.
Navigating pregnancy, giving birth, first baths to newborn babies, changing diapers, buying a house, being a dad, a mom. They’re just learning. Entering into your late thirties, forties, fifties. Why is our car making that noise? What is this new spot on my face? We’re just learning.
Each day is a day we’ve never experienced. Each day we are still learning. Each day we are making decisions that make life harder, easier. Each day we are making decisions, some that impact others. Each day we are still learning.
Once we reach a certain point it’s as if our new shoes no longer make us fast and we should have things figured out.
Why is the sky blue? Why do dogs bark? How does the sprinkler move from side to side? What is your favorite color? Will you tie my shoe? Will you carry my backpack? How did you get so tall? What is wrong with my washing machine? What is the appeal of video games? Why has that blackbird been hanging out in my yard for the past twenty minutes? Why can’t we just figure it out?
No, we are no longer three, four, five, etc., but we still have questions. Now maybe we revert to asking google. Now maybe we just ponder them. Now maybe it’s not acceptable for you not to know how to do things. It’s not as acceptable for you to need help. How do I tape my ceiling? How do I cut the trim? How do I texture that stupid part of the closet?
I’ve still got all the questions, but I think it’s okay because maybe we’re all just still learning.
What questions, big or small, do you have?