I have forgotten how to play. Really play. With my kids.
I am sort of like a toddler participating in parallel play. I can sort of play near my kids, alongside my kids, but when it comes to fully throwing myself into a game with them, I soon realize that my mind has begun to wander.
Then I hear this from Pants:
"Mom. Look at my face."
This well-worn phrase means, "I've been either talking to you or trying to get your attention and you've been staring off into space. I'll only trust that you are listening if I can see it in your eyes. Now look at me."
If the walls of my home office could talk, their first words would be, "Mom, look at my face." That phrase has been uttered in this room far too often.
Ashamed of myself? Yeah, that would be an understatement.
When I was little, my brother and I could inhabit imaginary worlds of play like no other kids on the block. Our ability to suspend disbelief was unparalleled. I was a queen. He was a cave-dwelling monster. I believed I needed to be rescued from the evil forest elves and he believed the need to deliver as the hero was urgent. We slayed dragons and built empires. We ruled.
That little girl who wore the magic pendant stolen from the evil witch is still in me somewhere. The pirate princess that is me wants to come out, I just know it.
But how do I snap myself out of my world of deadlines and responsibilites and back into their's?
So many things are in the process of changing around our house, in the land of adults. Good things. Great things. Things we have wanted for quite a long time. But, as such, I am consistently distracted. There is always something I should be doing. Something I have promised to deliver on for someone. Somewhere else I should be.
My life is an endless to-do list right now.
And yet, the only place that I need to be that matters is right here. Right now. With these two little boys. This is all I've ever wanted. And I feel like I'm missing it.
I can hear the voice of Elastigirl from The Incredibles, saying to Mr. Incredible:
"This, our family, is what is happening right now, Bob. And you are missing this."
I hear you, Elastigirl. So before my own little Dash and Jack-Jack grow up and no longer want to defeat Syndrome with me by their side, I had better get my act together.
Get my game face on.
I can still do all that I want to do and be the mom I want to be for my Incredible family. I can be a Super. I just need to relearn how.