Wordy Wednesday: A Letter

Dear Sister Jones,

I came to your house this morning with my girls to work on family history because up to this point I have done absolutely nothing in my calling as family history consultant and I figured it was time to start doing something. 

 I almost didn't come.  It was a rough morning.  I'd been up in the night at every hour with a crying baby who couldn't get comfortable.  I got an email saying the girls' Halloween costumes wouldn't be coming on time and I was completing a new to-do list in my head for what to buy. I couldn't find a clean pair of socks for the girls to save my life.  Not a one.  How can we have no clean socks in the house?  So they didn't wear socks.  No time for make-up... ok maybe just a little.  I looked (and felt) like a zombie.  I was running late and the girls were being naughty.  They are always naughty.  I was in tears and ready to call you to cancel.  But I didn't.

I showed up and expected you to see my frazzled look and say, "Oh, they're only young for a short time so just enjoy them." But you didn't.  You turned to your husband and said, "Paul, take the girls down to the play room and play with them" and then to me, "He just loves playing with kids." It set me right at ease. 

When Sissy refused to go downstairs and knocked the cushions off the window seat you stopped me from getting after her and said, "It's ok.  I don't care if things in my house get moved around." And you meant it.  You have 8 children and who knows how many grandchildren.  You get it. Maybe you even had children as naughty as mine.   

It was in that moment, exhausted as I was, that I was so glad I had come to your house.  It was the best break I had all day.  I was near tears but for a different reason than before.  

When the family history issue was resolved, it was time to head home.  But oh, how I just wanted to sit in your quiet house a few moments longer while "grandpa" entertained my girls.  When they did come upstairs he told me how the girls wanted to climb on the pipes and I was ready to hear him say how crazy they are and how I have my hands full but instead he said, "One of them wanted help from the other to climb.  I told her, 'oh no.  If you are going to climb the pipes then you have to do it yourself.'" He has 8 children.  He gets it.  And most likely he did have one as naughty as mine.  

So thank you sister Jones (and Brother Jones) for giving this tired, frazzled mom just a little time away from the madness.  It was exactly what I needed today.  

Sincerely,

Worn out Mama

ps.  Can we come back tomorrow?