The tricky thing about the last baby is that you never know when the Last of the Lasts will come along. One day I’m feeding her while she sits on the counter in the bumbo and the next day the high chair I’ve ordered is delivered and I eagerly assemble it; thinking that we are on to bigger and better things. It’s not until a week or so later that I realize….that was the last of lunch in the bumbo. It’s not that big of a deal, really, I mean…I guess it’s not. Unless I think back on The Last and wonder if I really soaked it in enough to make a memory of it. Did I? Did I stop long enough and really enjoy that Bumbo Time? Perhaps it’s not really the question of ‘did I soak up the Bumbo Time or Infant Seat Time or Sleep Sack Time or *insert whatever milestone is ending time*’, but rather am I soaking up ALL OF IT. Am I living in these days completely? Or on some days am I distracted by laundry/cooking/not cooking, but ordering out/cleaning up toys/making lunches?
It reminds me of the story of Mary and her sister Martha when Jesus came to visit them in their home. Mary chose to soak it up. To really BE THERE when Jesus was there. She gave all of her attention to Him while Martha, the busy body, was too distracted by household things to really enjoy the presence of Jesus. In fact, she even TATTLED on her sister TO JESUS saying ‘…make her help me!’. Can you imagine? Ratting on your sister to the same man who turns water into wine and walks across water like it’s a regular ol’ Saturday afternoon at the lake? Sadly, I think I CAN imagine myself tattling and getting upset because I was doing all the work while my sister did (what I thought was) nothing. But then, Jesus pretty much said to Martha, ‘Oh girl. You are worried about silly and useless things when only few things matter in this life. Your sister has chosen what is best and I’m not going to take that from her’.
What was that you said, Jesus? Sit down, chill out and LIVE THIS MOMENT?
Each day I think to myself, my goodness Lord, help me to choose what is best and leave the mindless things alone. These days fade too quickly and I’d rather be a Mary than a Martha. Hopefully, I’m doing more living than doing.
I’m thankful that I do stop and photograph her and her sisters so that I can easily look back and remember the Last of the Lasts. The sleep sack, the *baby* car seat, and before the crib was lowered.
Silly? Maybe, but it’s not neccessarily The Lasts that I’m talking about, but rather the idea of choosing what is best and leaving the busy work to be.
Now. Anyone want to come over and do this laundry for me?