What Parenting Has Done to My Definition of an Entertaining Evening

I sat on the pillows that were laying on the floor and watched Mr. Coppertop as he assembled our new bed frame. Our older two were in the living room while our youngest roamed the house searching for anything that looked remotely interesting.

She seemed most content to either inspect the new items laying on the floor, or repeatedly throwing herself onto the soft bedding that was piled in the corner.

Normally I would feel compelled to get up and pursue productivity, but honestly, when evenings like this happen it’s notably more entertaining to sit in the middle of it all.

It reminds me of when we were kids…our biggest event of the day was to climb on the back of the couch, look out the window, and pick our favorite cars as we waited for the mailman to deliver our afternoon mail.

 

I now get a kick out of what we consider “an entertaining evening”.

 

Our late-night dinner parties, concerts, and nice restaurants have been replaced by Friday-night furniture assembly pow-wows, and watching plays that were written, directed, and performed by the same four-year old.

(Granted, she is a talented gal, but a few singing lessons might not be a bad idea.) 

I smile as Jenna toddles over and decides to play hide and seek behind my back. Every time I look over my shoulder, she giggles with glee at being seen.

 

 

There are a million things that I could be doing.

But I sit.

In the middle of my little world, I watch.  

Mr. Coppertop is bent over my latest whim, muttering something about missing screws, while squinting at the instruction manual with a certain amount of concentration. I love him for a million reasons and this is one, he’s a giver. (Maybe not when it comes to sharing pie, but the bigger things, like time and love.)

Loud play echos from the living room as two healthy kids wrestle out their energy. I’ll be honest, my head throbs a little from the volume. And there’s a part of me that feels compelled to get up and tell them to calm down before someone gets hurt. I wait.

Chubby fingers attempt to untangle themselves from my hair as my youngest impatiently waits for me to turn my head again.

 

How is this crazy, simple, mundane, and sometime painful thing called parenting be so appealing?

 

So much so, that I would rather be here than anywhere else?

This season of having small kids is hard. It’s hard and it’s messy, but even more than all that, it’s captivating.

I’ll admit I often am torn between the feeling of needing to get out and staying home so I don’t miss out.

There are times that the getting out is what is best for the greater good, (you know what I mean?) but all the rest of the time, being here is where it’s at.

Mr. Coppertop finishes placing the last slat across the frame and reaches for the mattress.

Jenna puts her thumb in her mouth and cuddles up in my lap as the red-cheeked wrestlers make their way into our room to investigate their dad’s handiwork.

 

I delight in our charming evening.

 

I know the sales at Target will be there tomorrow… so tonight, I am content to applaud somersaults, referee jumping, and possibly engage in some belly-tickling on our mattress…

Because for every pain in parenting, there are a hundred gifts, and this is just one… I don’t want to miss. ❤️

 

What does an entertaining evening with kids look like for you?