Doing “nothing” well

Do you remember back when you imagined what it would be like to be a mom?  You loved the idea of a baby cuddled on your chest, or picking out adorable tiny outfits, or pushing your baby in the stroller on a sunny day.  You even thought about what it would be like when they were big kids and how proud you’d be when they participated in the science fair, or little league, or band.

Now you were also aware that things would be hard.  We all know about diapers, spit-up, colic, terrible twos, rebellious teenagers, health problems, learning disabilities, and bullies.  At least for me, I thought having an understanding of the hard times and the sweet times would give me a complete picture of what parenthood would be like.  I didn’t want to over romanticize it and I didn’t want to be too negative, so I figured by accurately contemplating the goods and bads I would be prepared.

I was wrong.

If I think through my day yesterday or the day before or any of the random days between today and the day 6 years ago when I became a mom (or the day 10 years ago when I became a housemom) they have not been characterized by highs and lows.  It hasn’t been one moment of snuggly bedtime stories and then the next moment there’s a crisis.  That would be way more exciting and fun than the reality of parenting.  Motherhood done well by your average parent is not the fodder for reality tv.  My days are not characterized by beauty and tragedy.  They’ve been characterized by the mundane.

If you asked me what I did yesterday, I could tell you I had one thing on the agenda- buy groceries.  Really.  That was the only thing I had to do.  So what did I do all day?  I did a thousand mundane things. Nothing to write home about.  No great moments of triumph or defeat.  Just a thousand small acts of motherhood.  The house didn’t get too messy, nobody was injured, everybody got fed, everybody stayed mostly clean, everybody had time to play and time to rest.  In the history books of our family, this day will probably not get written down.  When Brian came home and asked me what I did, I think I said, “nothing” and I was kind of right.  Nothing big.  Nothing meaningful.  Nothing memorable.

But I’m trying to learn to think differently.  I am not just the entertainment director.  I’m not just the crisis manager.  I’m the mom.  I do the extremes, but I also do the mundane.  I’m doing it all to create a culture in my home.  I’m creating The Bradley Experience—what it means to be part of our family and live life together.  When I’m doing my job well, things run smoothly enough that I’m pretty sure all I’ve done was “nothing”.  But it isn’t nothing at all!

I think about my childhood.  I remember relatively few times that my mom got down and played with me. We had siblings to play with, so we needed her more for conflict mediation than anything else.  I don’t remember her creating craft projects or taking us on many trips to the zoo or buying us the Barbie Dream House.  But I always remember being loved.  I never felt unsafe in my home or worried about the stability of my parents’ marriage.  I had good food to eat and a bed to sleep in.  I know not everybody can say the same and God has his watchful eye on those children, too.

I just know that no expensive toy or dream vacation was as important as the environment my parents cultivated in our house.  That’s what I try to remember as I parent my kids today.  Life isn’t just lived in the big moments, but in all the small ways that create a place of safety and security for them.  It’s the mundane things I do that culminate in them being able to say as adults, “I had a great childhood.”  Maybe they won’t be talking about that trip to Disneyland, but about the vague feeling they always had that they mattered to their parents.  It’s a feeling we create with a thousand peanut butter and jelly sandwiches served when they were hungry, consistent bedtimes even when they didn’t like it, dishes washed in a reasonable manner so they didn’t grow up in filth.  It’s the really basic stuff.  Hugs.  Forgiveness.  Prayers.  Snacks.  Tidying up.

Being faithful in the mundane even when it feels like nothing, when it feels like stifling boredom or a waste of your college degree and talents, that’s what makes the sweet moments so sweet.  I cherish the snuggly family movie times on the couch because I’ve wrestled through the laundry and chores that allow me to enjoy this guilt-free.  Being faithful in the mundane also means the times of crisis are easier to handle.  When I’ve been consistently creating a place of safety and love for my kids, their tantrums feel less like personal insults and more like childish indiscretion.  I can respond out of a place of calmness and strength because I truly KNOW my kids from living life with them in all the small things.

When I’m truly living in that reality I learn there are no small things.  Nothing is “nothing”.