Where are My Glasses? {Five Minutes to Focus}

FOCUS. Sorry for yelling, but I have five minutes to write about this topic: FOCUS.

I could write about the child who's attention I fight to hold over math lessons or phonograms.  The one who I chase like a wild animal, and how just when I get him cornered up to the fence, and just as his breathing slows and I can almost speak slow and gentle to him...someone runs up and asks, "Watcha doin?" and he's off again.

FOCUS.

I could write about the struggle to look in the right place with the right attitude and set my mind on things above, not on things in the mirror or the sink or on the floor or spilling over the baskets.

Or maybe the discipline of quiet time.  The set-aside time to FOCUS (sorry for yelling) on written words that speak loud.  The continual hiding away and bringing the heart back and how sometimes I lock the door of my bedroom just to get a second...

How about those times when ten minutes turn into forty-five and all my good intentions and scheduled activities are lost at sea because I lost my FOCUS?

Or how I freak out over little things and walk around looking for my reading glasses and everyone laughs because they're on my head (the glasses) and maybe they're a little nervous that this woman is in charge?

Or how I think without punctuation but speak with many... ellipses...and that's good because we're supposed to be slow to speak and I really have to FOCUS on edifices, aedificium, building them up.

Nah.  I'll write about How to Order Your Home to Create More Focus.  Sounds perfect.

Just another cup of coffee and then I'll start...

 

{Yep.  Five Minute Friday is here and this week's topic is FOCUS.  I freaked out a little, thinking of how to spend just five minutes on that one.  I'd love to read what you wrote.  Click the link and play along!}

 

 

Five Minute Friday: Change

DSCF0648 I used to have a PhD.

I even wrote a poem about it but lucky for you, I can’t find it.

Three kids in three years meant a mountain of diapers and my poor husband, he came home one day after one of those days and found me huddled up with this poem.  The one about poop.

I told him I had an official Poop Handler’s Degree.

When you’ve cleaned it off of the baby’s clothes, your clothes, the floor, the chair, the toddler…whatever, and then repeated the whole cycle and taken care of the puppy’s, too, you get crowned with this distinction.

You probably have a PhD, dear reader.  Congratulations.

So I changed a zillion diapers and the sheets, too.  We changed houses, careers, curriculums, parenting tactics.  We survived toddlerhood and I think we did pretty well.

And “they” used to always tell me, the way well-meaning people do, that it only gets harder.  That babies change into big kids and into little adults and life won’t slow down for you.

They were right.

Our schedules have changed.  It’s  no longer about meal time and snack time and nap time and school time.  Bed time is later and now it’s more about who-needs-to-be-where-and-when.  I am not in control of every minute of their day anymore.

I used to have a PhD, but now I drive a taxi.

Jacob

It used to be I was trying to get them to stay asleep, but now, just this morning, I’m waking my man-child up before dawn to go to work with dad.  Not just-for-fun, but he will actually work and I can still see him waddling around in his diaper.

Two men kissed me good-bye this morning, and I couldn’t be happier.

 

{Join us at Lisa-Jo's for five minutes of writing joy.  Today’s prompt is CHANGE, and I’m sure you can come up with some good stuff!}

 

Why I'll be Using More Paper

Convenience is great.

Accessibility is great.

And I'm all about making things simple and easy.

But I'm also about balance, and one thing I've noticed about myself lately is that my face is often in a screen.  Or maybe, the screen is in my face.

I'm also highly distracted, like ADHD without the H.

All that makes it hard to be a good mom, wife, friend, homemaker...all that makes it hard for me to just stop, put the brakes on, and engage with life.  That thing that happens around me all day.

My lists are on screen.  My books, schedules, dreams and ideas float in bits and bytes, and my eyes are burning.  I appreciate my Kindle for the convenience and cost-saving, but I miss paper.  

The thing is, I change my mind so often about how and where I want to organize those pieces of life that need documented.  I use notebooks, sketch books, journals, sticky notes, evernote, onenote, notes on my phone...

I've tried to be all computerized and organized in digital fashion, because I think that's great.  But the screen sucks my brain and my attention (which is limited).

It's easier to walk away from paper, but this screen cries out to me for just one more...

I have one life to live and one shot at making these memories, the ones my kids will live with.  I don't want to be the mom at the pool that misses the cannonball because of The Screen.  There are baby steps on this road to recovery, and the first one is logging off.

So I'll be using more paper, and hallelujah, I've found a wonderful notebook that makes me giddy. (I'm simple like that).

The Arc customizable notebook from Staples.  I'm not an affiliate, won't get any money if you click on the link, but if you feel so happy and excited after seeing this thing and you'd like to thank me, we can make arrangements.  *smile*

It's just a little thing, but isn't that what our lives are made up of?  To be faithful in the smallest of things, that's the calling of those called mom and it's the groundwork for bigger faith.  Because nobody who takes care of the little things is ever overlooked in the kingdom of heaven.

He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in what is least is unjust also in much. - {Luk 16:10 NKJV}

 

{Counting gifts and remembering His goodness with community here.}

355.  Again, great fellowship with friends...the Beautiful Feet people.

356. A lost dog and the way Jesus answers prayers

357. leftovers on busy days

358. kids old enough and willing to help a very pregnant friend

359. the ebb and flow of noise and quiet in the house

360. THE GREATEST JOY!  Our youngest, asking to receive Christ right in the kitchen.  Unprompted and out of the blue.  Born again, adopted again, and eternally His!

Oh, Happy Day.  (click and sing along with us?)

 {Why the random picture at the top of the post, you ask?  It's just a good memory from Yellowstone last year, a picture my daughter took.  So it kinda fits, in a peacefully-engaged sort of way.}