Constant Interruptions

Whenever I'm by myself or whenever I'm out with other adults, I'm always amazed at how nice it is to finish a thought that I've started, or notice one key element to my current life that is starkly missing- the constant interruptions.  My days at home often looks like this-

Write out my daily to-do list.
Stop to pull out markers and paper for Emma.
Set her up on the stairs, her new favorite place to color.
Start on the first item on the list- clean out the "closet of doom" (you know, the one that can never stay clean on it's own for some reason).
Stop to pull out some paper for Noah, who wants to "color! color!" and has taken to pulling on my legs and physically manipulating my body so that I'm turned the direction he wants me to be facing.
Continue cleaning out the closet of doom
Answer the phone.  Chat with a kind friend that called just to check in and see how I'm doing.  Listen to several texts "ding" in my ear while we chat.
Try to understand the description of and admire Adam's latest Lego creation while on the phone.
Hurry over to the stairs in response to calls from Emma to see that Noah has commandeered two of Emma's markers and has scribbled on his legs and clothes and is moving on to the wall.
Finish up the phone call.
Take two pictures then set Noah to work scrubbing the wall.  Move Emma to the middle of another room so she can finish her artwork with no walls nearby for Noah to scribble on.
Greet a blurry-eyed Leah, who was up in the night with a fever and has slept in until 10:00.  Make her a small breakfast and turn around to see that the closet of doom is still strewn all over the place.
Put the closet back together and check it off the to-do list.
Set Leah up with a bed tray of markers and crayons so she can rest on the couch but still do something.
Listen to the description of and comment on Adam's next Lego creation.
Turn back to the to-do list, and get started on the next item- calling the museum about a membership question.
Notice Noah has taken to scribbling on the bench cushion.  Redirect Noah and look up the phone number.
The doorbell rings.  I realize no one has gotten dressed yet today, and I stand in my yoga pants and explain to our sweet neighbor friend that we're not coming out to play right now.
Head back to make the phone call, stopping to administer some medicine to Leah and admire Emma's artwork along the way.

Etc., etc., etc.

And somewhere in the middle of this 15 minute snapshot, I freeze and recognize, yet again, that constant interruptions are the staple of my life.

It's not chaos, it's just life.

 Part of it is that it's summer, and we're all together all the time.

Part of it is because I have four little kids at home, and they need me, and I need to get things done during the day.

And part of me is so sad to realize that in 2019- just four short years from now- I will be home alone all day long.  And I won't have constant interruptions.  I'll zip right through my to-do list.  I'll clean a room and it will stay clean.  I'll make a phone call and finish it peacefully.  

Constant interruptions aren't ideal, but they are the bulk of my life right now, and I kind of usually love it.  I love being needed and I love when my kids come running to tell me something happy or to cry about something sad.  I love that I'm here and that they come to me.

Of course, it also drives me crazy that I do so much and don't do anything every day.

Jason took over my job twice this year- once while I was in New York City with my mom and sisters, and once while I was at Girls Camp.  After both occasions he said, somewhat exasperated, "I can't get anything done when I'm at home!  It's like I have to plan on doing nothing all day long, just so I can take care of everything that is happening."  

Exactly. 

But it won't always be like this.  And I've learned to embrace it.  

I wanted to take the kids to the zoo today, but we stayed home instead and that was just fine.  Because a mom with young children knows how to roll with the changes of the day.  

And it will only be like this for four more years. 

So I find it slightly hilarious and somewhat shocking that this is the time that the Lord would ask me to be the Relief Society president for our ward.  The director of the women's program and the keeper of 200 women and the helper of their needs.  I'm suddenly finding myself at meetings in the mornings and the nights, making visits and phone calls and arrangements and praying more than I've prayed in a long time.  I'm busier than I like to be, and I'm recognizing that life itself is one big constant interruption.  Nothing goes exactly the way we expect it to.  So I'm just trying to get it all right as it comes.
Because callings never last for long.  

But neither does childhood.

So you can believe I'm praying for heaven's help as I work my way through both.