Lego Skeletons and All

Three SiblingsWe just moved from an apartment to a house. The past month has been consumed with packing, boxing, cleaning, unpacking, and cleaning some more. Less than three years ago, when we moved to California from India, we had two suitcases per person, and a couple backpacks. Our earthly possessions fit in ten suitcases. I was shocked to find that 45 boxes and three trips by the U-Haul van still didn’t manage to transport everything we had gathered in the past three years from the apartment to the house. God is good and has definitely blessed us with a lot (and maybe we’ve kept a bit too much of it).

When my mom came to see the house for the first time, we all gathered in the kitchen to pray for our new home. My mom looked around at the kids and commented, “Imagine, you guys are going to be teenagers here.”

I laughed at the thought. It seemed so far away. But afterwards, I began to think about it. Teenagers? Our oldest is eight; the youngest is four. A couple years ago, he was still in diapers. Teenagers?

I pictured my sons, pushing six feet tall, consuming half of the items in the fridge in one sitting, drinking milk straight from the jug, asking to borrow the car keys, inviting their first date home. I pictured my daughter getting her first after-school job, starting to wear makeup, preparing for graduation and future plans. My mind went into temporary overdrive and rapidly proceeded toward a meltdown. I’m not ready for them to grow up yet. Whoever said they’re allowed to become teens anyway?

My youngest son came racing towards me, breaking my runaway train of thought that had been racing full-speed toward the future. “I just flushed the skeleton Lego down the toilet.”

I looked at him, trying to process what he said. “You what?”

“I flushed the skeleton Lego down the toilet because I didn’t like it,” he explained in more detail.

I wasn’t aware that they had a Lego man-skeleton and didn’t think I would have been very fond of it anyway. Still, visions of exorbitant plumbing bills dance in my head. “Please don’t flush anything else down the toilet unless you ask first,” I told him.

“Okay Mommy.” He raced off, probably happy that my reaction wasn’t more severe. I watched him run off, oblivious to all the concerns I had been projecting about their futures. They’re just kids, and I have a long ways to go before they enter those higher digits. Days of adventure and experiencing the world through their eyes.

I reminded my mind not to get ahead of itself. And my heart to just enjoy the moment. Every moment before it goes by and becomes yet another structure on memory lane. They’re just kids, and the world lies ahead of them, waiting to be discovered.

Returning to my unpacking, I resolved to be more mindful, more present in the passing moments, Lego skeletons and all.

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About Bonita Jewel

Bonita Jewel is an author and blogger who writes on a variety of themes, including: Literature & poetry https://danielandbonita.wordpress.com Writing https://awordfitlywritten.wordpress.com Parenting https://positiveparentingblog.wordpress.com Purpose https://apurposedlife.wordpress.com After living in India from the age of 16 to 28, she returned to California with her husband and three children. She is pursuing a Degree at Fresno State University. Bonita teaches community education at Clovis Adult. Her courses include Blogging Basics, Power Editing, Creative Writing, and Working from Home. She also freelances as an editor, ghostwriter, and writing coach. Her greatest passions are her family, her faith, writing, and reading. Bonita Jewel has been reading since she was 2 ½. Thirty years later, she still loves the magic and mystery of the written word. She is slowly breathing life into roughly 50 novels and nearly as many nonfiction works, depending on which plot or character seizes her interest at any given time. Please connect with Bonita at: https://www.facebook.com/BonitaJewelAuthor

Posted on July 5, 2013, in Attributes, Life Lessons, Paying attention, Peace and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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