The day went on as normal, but I couldn't get the stupid sock comment out of my mind. Why was this bugging me so bad?
The life of a stay at home mom is, in most cases, extremely routine and sometimes a little mundane. I am not saying that being a stay at home mom isn't awesome, or that I don't find tremendous joy in seeing my son grow, I'm just saying it is routine to the max! How routine, you ask? I wake up every morning to the sound of my son fussing in his crib. I get him up, get him something to drink, and lay in bed for about thirty minutes. I feed him breakfast, say goodbye to my husband, play around for about an hour and then put him down for his morning nap. While he is napping I take a shower and clean up a little (ok so maybe I get on facebook instead of clean). He wakes up, we have a snack, my husband comes home for lunch, I run errands if needed, come home, put him down for an afternoon nap and take a nap myself. My son wakes up, my husband gets home, then it's time for dinner, some more playing, bath and bedtime. EVERY single day. No weekends, no sick days, and no paid vacation. On a side note, I have actually gotten to the point where I love going to the doctor's office (weird I know), just for the mere change in my day.
Where was I? Oh yeah, routine. So after much contemplation about the sock comment, I finally came to the determination that I need colored socks in my life. The thought of all this routine plus putting on the same white socks every day, could be my breaking point. I actually enjoy picking out a matching pair of socks for my outfit each day, as silly and small as that may sound. The fact that I have green penguin socks on when it's not even Christmas season even makes me feel a little rebellious! Do the socks make the routine of my life go away? No, the routine is still there, but maybe routine isn't as bad as it may sound or feel sometimes.
I feel that, especially during this Lenten season, Christ has been trying to press something on my heart and it is this: God is found in the ordinary. I have to stop looking for him in the extravagant things in life, and find him in the every day tasks. This may seem like a simple concept, but applying it to my life is much more difficult. I feel like a little girl playing hide and seek with her dad in the backyard. As my dad is "hiding" (very obviously so) behind a tiny bush much to small to cover his large body, I am running around the yard looking in the most obscure places shouting, "Daaaaddy where are youuuu??? Come out where I can see you!" He peers over the bush with tender loving eyes thinking, "Sweet Andrea, I'm right here! Just turn around and open your eyes!"
This is what I'm trying to work on this Lenten season. Opening my eyes and finding Christ in doing the dishes, changing the diapers, and taking care of my family. Surely Christ himself knew routine as a carpenter with St. Joseph for the first 30 years of his life. Was his work, even though it was probably generally the same every day, not pleasing to his Father? It had to have been, and I take comfort in the fact that mine can be too. But I'm keeping the socks.