Why does it matter?

I’ve been working on a blog post, but 3 year old keeps jumping on me, and she just ran off with a basket of clean laundry.  

I’m discouraged.  Writing is hard.  Writing while actively parently 4 children is…painful.  Literally.  3 year old just smacked me.

Why does it matter if I take a shower?  Why does it matter if I choose to choose the choices I tacitly choose?  Why does it matter if I find peace in my vocation?  Why am I writing about this stuff on a blog about paying off a million (ish) dollars of debt?

3 year old is sitting on the piano keys.

Because it’s foundational.  On the one hand, we can’t hope to achieve our goals if we don’t have our lives in order.  

But on the other hand…and I’m struggling to find the words to make sense of something that I feel to be true…Our goals are the field on which we become who we were meant to be.  Our desires fuel movement toward something, and it’s that movement or action that allows us to learn, change, and grow.  If we don’t allow ourselves to want something, then why do anything?  Why try anything?  Why not just sit in complacency and stay who we are?

In order to become more, you have to learn.  You have to experiment.  Having desires to work toward gives you something to experiment about.

Right now, 3 year old really wants my attention.  She is running endless experiments on how to get that attention.

After she had experimented with climbing over the baby gate and under the piano, squishing her brother with the play couch, climbing up my leg, running off with the baby’s sippy, absconding with the 9 year old’s collection of decorative gourds, biting my pillow, and then climbing up my leg again, I reminded her how to get what she wants:

“Mommy, may you please pay attention for me?”

Ok, 3 year old.






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