MISSING: Homemade Bread

I can remember the smell of homemade bread. This picture I took a few months ago even reminds me that I did at one time or another even bake it myself. However, it is missing. I haven't seen it on my counter, cooling since I last took the picture. Maybe I was prompted to take the picture for memories sake... in case it didn't happen again.

It frustrates me. I want the homemade bread on the counter. I want my children to come home from school and taste of it's goodness. Really I do. But somehow in the last year or so, life has seemed to take over. The time to create bread has been filled in on the calendar.

I have been analyzing why I can't seem make bread anymore. Why I can't create any great new dinners lately or even some nights....dinner at all? Why was I able to get it all done in days of yor all while nursing a baby and stirring the dough in the other hand with another toddler hanging from my sleeve? Where did my ability go to be able to do it all? (I know some of you are under the impression that I really do it all. Silly ladies.) We could really go so beyond the bread here and talk about how dusty my blinds are right now or how my closet is a complete disaster. But, I won't go there so you still have some respect for me.

I know it has lots to do with older kids and living the life of carpools and social lives. I know it has some to do with church callings and helping at school. I am sure it has something to do with the fact that I am getting older and can't go as fast as I used to. However, I think there is also something else to it. Something more important I am learning.

I was at the table tonight. Sitting (a strange concept). I was frustrated that dinner was late and involved some 3 day old toasted french bread, Costco Tomato Basil Soup (totally organic and really good) , a few cut up veggies that were past there prime and a cold glass of water. I had plans to make a really good dinner but it was lost in the late afternoon therapy for Tate and picking up and dropping off the underage in the house. Everyone else was gone to their evening activities and I was just sitting there next to my 8 year old and my Tater tot. Tate was coloring a picture for me and Tallin was just sitting next to me asking questions. He stopped and said,

"Mom, do you know what I love best right now?"

"What, Tallin."

"That you are just sitting here talking to me."


That is what I have learned these past few months. We are quick to clean, quick to take a dinner to someone in need, quick to get kids to where they need to be and meet their physical needs, but, what many of us don't do is stop and listen. Somehow we feel it is not the best use of our time.
Time is really what most people are craving. Our time just for them, unrushed and unobstructed. Homemade bread tastes really good, but nothing tasted better tonight than hearing those words from my sweet 8 year old. I had wanted to get up and get to the dishes and all the things that awaited me this night. But, I made a conscious decision that I would just sit by him and let him talk about anything he wanted. When he made his comment I knew that by letting everything else go right then, I made a tender moment with a child. The dishes are still there right now at 10:30.

I get to go to my aging grandparents house weekly to bring meals and to be with them. We sit at the table, hold hands and pray over our meal. My grandfather always blesses me and then tells me about his life. It is priceless. My life is so busy and my grandmother always talks about how I don't have time for this and to not worry about them. However, what she doesn't get is that sitting and listening to them has caused me to understand these past several months that time flies. They tell me story after story about vacations with their children, dances, friends and special moments. Life is about moments. We rush around so much that we can miss them.

I bought some bread from the bread company. My blinds are still dusty. My closet once again did not get picked up. But, while this would have made me crazy in years past and caused me to loose sleep, I now go to bed thinking about the special moments I created by letting it go.

I will get it done. I am confident that bread will again be on my counter soon. I still make a great hot breakfast and pack 5 organic lunches but some things like blinds and closets can slip by for now. My family is growing up. My grandparents are getting older and soon will move onto the next life. I want to jam pack these memories while I can. Whoever created the concept of time really should have made it a little longer. I need just a little more, please.