The Youngling found Jedi Knight's trains yesterday. The wooden Thomas tracks. They have been put away in a large box in his room for several months now because once JK became a Star Wars fanatic the other two followed suit . . . and then to whatever next trend suited his fancy. In recent weeks I had considered putting them in the attic, lamenting that my youngest, five this week, had missed so many little boy phases in his rush to be a big kid. Anyway, without Mom's prompting, I walked in Youngling's bedroom to ask him to wash his hands yesterday and saw that he had built a large, rather disjointed, track all around the floor and under the bunk bed ladder. This morning I am sitting here, trying to find the ambition for my homework, and listening to his sweet little voice tell Thomas stories from the other room. A thing I have not heard around here in a long, long time. My heart is full.
My future career looks somewhat bleak at the moment and my years off-the-job will certainly not help, but as the tender memories of my oldest child (closer to eleven than ten) and the pattern repeated in my youngest, make me grateful down in my bones today for my decision to stay home. If I had not, then these sweet recollections would belong to somebody else, and Jedi Knight's childhood would be a blur of being too busy and too distracted. I don't fault any woman for working while her kids are young, I'm just fully aware of what a blessing it was to have the choice to be at home during the day.
The train moves on to the next horizon, but boy am I glad for the view from the rear door of the caboose.