Full Hands
as we anticipate
My phone faces up on the counter and I can see the screen light up a few times. At the same time, my hands are measuring flour and grating a cold butter stick, and my round belly hits the counter as my hands knead ingredients together to make flakey vanilla scones for a friend.
I think to myself, I’ll respond when I’m done and my hands are clean. But I’m interrupted by small children who want to “help” shape scones, lick battered spoons, and even the sticky counter itself. My littlest one insist on starting his favorite job, putting the silverware away, one by one, as well as handing me each glass (yes glass) dish in the dishwasher.
Someone needs help in the bathroom and the other needs a diaper change when I hear the timer beep from the kitchen. The scones are a little more brown than they should be but I plop them on top of the stove and begin pulling chicken out of the freezer for dinner later. When I turn around (to what was a wiped-clean counter), I see how happy my toddler is that I accidentally left the flour out for him to happily discover.
I forgot ballet started today (welcome back from winter break) so we tie her tight brown curls up into a bun and squeeze into pink tights that are definitely getting to be a size too small. We cut up an apple and throw a few string cheese into the freezable snack bag. I don’t even bother to grab shoes for the littlest because I’ll carry him inside anyways. We run out the door, on time.
My hands feel full.
And most messages on my phone sit unread.
As we drive I silently pray, Lord I just want to be present in my life.
I don’t know why I feel overwhelmed by such simple things today, things that feel so common to my everyday, but make my life feel full.
//
Last night we cleaned the house before hosting our community group. I took the least physical job, which was standing and chopping meat, while he ran around, picked up an endless amount of toys, and took out a garbage that is somehow always, always being pushed down to make more room.
The house looks adequate for hosting.
“Can I say something and you won’t judge me?”
He glances up at me from the chicken he’s moving side to side in the cast iron.
“Some days, I just can’t believe we’re doing this again” I say, as my hand just barely gazes my belly.
“Me too”, and he hugs me, the bear kind of hug that unravels the built up tension and melts away the anxiety of the unknown, the anticipation.
//
We get home from an afternoon of ballet and I toss ground chicken on the sheet pan, resembling a set of meatballs. I slide them into the oven and start the stir fry on the stove while balancing a toddler on my hip.
Our bedtime routine: one book, one song, one prayer. After everyone is tucked in, I plop myself down on the couch just in time to hear the word “mama” being shouted down the hall.
I walk slower than I should, open the door, see the sweetest face, and scoop a yummy baby boy up into my arms. I settle into the rocking chair, placing his legs purposefully around my belly. I might have been reluctant in the hallway (let’s be real, I am so ready for bed), but now I fully embrace the fresh sent of a bathed little boy, a tiny hint of lavender, chubby fingers that stroke my earlobe (why do both my kids insist on this comfort?), and the roundest cheeks that graze my lips. His body melts ever so perfectly into mine.
24 hours ago I wondered how we were going to do this again.
12 hours ago my hands felt overwhelmingly full with simple tasks.
In this ordinary moment, my prayer from the afternoon is answered and I’m reminded that I am not capable whatsoever. But He sure is and he calls me to obediently do the work, with little steps of faith.
P.S. We’re expecting Baby Elliott #3 —- in one moment it feels a little wild that the tiny people are about to outnumber the big people, but even more than that, it feels like an ever-gracious and kind gift from God.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Anticipate."
P.S.S. Exhale is (one of) the best online communities, where there is a seat for every mother + creative AND the best mother’s day gift to yourself!
You can also stay up to date on all things writing and watercolor here!
In light of all the hospitality talk at CC, I love this: "The house looks adequate for hosting."
Ahhhhhh this is the best announcement ever, Kendra!!! Full hands, full hearts. So happy for you, and I love the invitation you've just given us to bend ourselves toward gratitude. ❤️