My world is a colorful string of interruptions – just like yours. I have a husband and kids, a dog and an unused degree. I have dusty hobbies, paused ambitions and unfolded laundry. Friends and church and homeschooling (you’re already judging, it’s ok) and … seriously?!!! AAAA!!! I’m losing it. I’ve gotten up about 47 times since I began this entry.

My capable children are scrubbing one toilet each. ONE. They do it every Friday, it’s not new. It’s just regular chores and it should buy me about ten minutes because every Friday I am not trying to will my brain to produce a cohesive thought and I need these minutes! But every Friday they don’t make it a contest. They did today, of course. Every two and a half breaths my name is called,”Mom! I can’t get this cleaner open!!” “Mom!  Is it gummy bears if I win?!” “Mom! Can you look now??” “How about now?!” “Mom! I have a question!!!” “Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!….”

Mom moved. She’s not here anymore. They don’t believe me.

I can’t seem to get anything linear accomplished. It’s a daily miracle that my teeth get brushed. Hmmm- that didn’t happen yet and it’s already 11:30am.

The contest was a wash. They both missed the same spots (it’s like the same person taught them to clean or something) and one was adamantly against gummy bears. Oh, and I sent them out with the dog hoping to scrape up the scattered remains of my thoughts. They returned in under ten minutes, one with a sprained ankle. He is now chattering in my ear about everything from glass beakers to piano. And I mean everything. It’s sweet and revealing and I’m glad he likes to tell me things at all the most inopportune times even though it takes me a second (or two thousand) to readjust my pace. His heart is for the right now. Mine is trying.

So today I’m learning that life without interruption is a fictional muse. To ignore her is to see clearly what is right in front of me. It’s obvious I have the every day things and the surprises, like anyone. From hilarious to frustrating, confusing to revealing, my forest of interruptions has grown up around me with trees from every season. And like trees in winter there is always something gathering just under the surface. Something alive and vibrant and new.