Thoughts on Leaving

 I left all of it. 

The clean dishes in the dishwasher, the dirty dishes, the messy table, the unwashed kitchen floors, the two loads of laundry waiting to be folded, the laundry in the basement waiting to be dried, the stencils scattered on my art desk from today’s lesson, all of it. I left it  

And I crawled into bed. 

I write from under my gray blanket, my babies all safe and tucked away, already with heavy eyes from a busy day. The extra window unit hums loudly lulling me to sleep. My hardworking and loving husband also already asleep. 

It is 8:19, and I will follow them to sleep soon. 

There is a time when self care is cleaning the kitchen. Or folding the laundry. Or stepping into a hot shower. Then there is a time when self care is recognizing your limits, telling the to do list to wait a little longer, and snuggling into the rest your body craves. 

Each day I watch myself get bigger and bigger. At least once a week I spend some time sprawled on my bathroom floors, crying while my body loses the nourishment I’ve given it and our baby. Gravity pulls this sweet baby down and my hormones wreck havoc on my mind. 

In the routine of bedtime when I read to my two big kids, she pushes on them and me. A constant reminder that when I am doing nothing I am doing something. 

We are waiting. 

Waiting for a big girl to turn seven. To dive into reading which I know she is at the cusp of it. Watching her develop into a person I wish I could be. Drawing strength from her and worrying I ask too much. 

Waiting for a big boy to hit a learning curve. To see him become more brave than he is even now. Watching each cautious jump and another go down the big slides. Encouraging him to play with kids his age, use his manners and maybe not yell so much. 

Waiting for a little girl who thinks she’s big to turn a whole whopping two years old. Her personality very distinctly hers, never will she be outdone by her siblings. Watching her repeat words, try new things and feeling our hearts quicken when she does something that maybe we aren’t sure she’s ready for. 

All of life going on around me. The demands always there. The work always there. 

And I left it all tonight. 

I feel called to a deep rest. An introspective calm, going inward to a peace that I can’t explain. Oh I know, I know in the morning it will all still be there. The work. The dishes and laundry and cleaning. The grief and the changes. It’s always there. And it will all get done, it will be processed. Deep in my bones I know this. Because it always gets done. It always gets the attention it needs  

It is ok to leave it though. And enjoy this quiet for a moment. To rest in it. To enjoy it. I feel this is a thing not enough people know how to do. 

Walk away friends. From the mess and the constant doing. Snuggle next to your beloved under the covers. Watch the sunset. Make a sand castle. Blow bubbles. Say yes to one more chapter of the book. Sing the extra bedtime song. Know that just as easily as your feet can carry you through jobs and work, they can help you walk towards beauty and rest. 

Make room for both. 

Sometimes, just leave things and crawl into bed. 

Rest. Blessed rest. It is sweet. It is necessary. 

And you have permission to do it.