Thirty Mommy Minutes

In a home that’s packed from dawn to dusk (and beyond!) with the joyful (and occasionally not so joyful) sights and sounds of twin toddlers, I have somehow grown accustomed in the last few months to multitasking and tuning out any noises that I don’t believe represent urgent need. As long as I don’t hear fighting sounds or accident sounds or too much suspicious silence, I know for the most part that the twins are fine. They’re growing more independent, by God’s grace, and can mostly feed, entertain, and take care of themselves without constant, concentrated adult supervision.

And with their gradual increase in independence comes my gradual increase in flexibility. One of us parents taking an hour off for a meeting or focused work isn’t as impossible as it used to be. Meals can still be exhausting, but at least we only need to feed them half of the time. They manage well enough for the other half. There is a sense of nostalgia mixed in with a sense of pride as we watch the children become better at doing their own things. But with the increase in freedom for us parents, I also find myself getting trapped into worsening distraction.

Now that I can use my phone or my laptop undisturbed for slightly longer amounts of time, now that the twins only need half an eye on them most of the time, I unfortunately often end up giving them only that. Without necessity binding me to watching them 100%, I sometimes end up only ever giving them my half-attention at best.

It’s a horrible habit, and it’s something I am trying to learn to overcome.

I am a hopeless multitasker. The only way I know how to juggle work and family and ministry and household management is by constantly doing half a dozen things at a time. It’s not unusual for me to have a work meeting while cooking while coordinating a delivery. I often absent-mindedly watch the kids while drafting memos or grading or blogging or jotting down one of the 101 things I am currently dealing with.

I thank God for technology to help
me to do all these things at the same time.

But I also know my children deserve better.

How can I complain that kids these days can’t focus for long when I myself fail at giving them even five minutes of undivided attention a day? It’s counter-intuitive for me at this point. I am that far gone into incessant and compulsive multitasking. Why do just one thing when I can arrange our social calendar, plan tomorrow’s lunch, cross-check credit card bills, and video chat with a friend all at the same time?

I can’t pull a 180, and I don’t even know if it’s wise to pull a 180. But I’m trying to curb my addiction to constant preoccupation by starting small.

Thirty minutes - that’s all I’m aiming for, just to start. I will try my very best, no matter the amount of work on my plate or the length of my to-do list or the keenness of my desire to jump into the next novel or Netflix show, to put down my phone and dedicate at least thirty minutes of undivided, focused attention on my children each day (Tim and I do it for each other too, although it’s thirty minutes out of a week instead. Compared to kids, adult relationships are like succulents. We’ll live.). I still spend time with the kids all day. I still care for them and teach them and watch them.

But for thirty minutes a day, I want to be 100% present and 100% engaged as a mother.

I had no idea it would be so hard!

The first time I tried it, my hands twitched for my phone every 4-5 minutes. The kids are incredibly happy to have Mommy doing focused play with them, but they also occasionally engage with the toys or books themselves. And the temptation to start doing something else the moment they begin to turn away is extremely strong. Humans are selfish by nature, and it’s such a struggle to force myself not to seek my own entertainment but to just be with the kids and be completely present, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

But it gets better.

The second time, I didn’t miss my phone quite as much. The third time, I was surprised to see the thirty minutes feel like five. Every time, I see the spark of learning in the children’s eyes, I see their antics and their grins, I feel their hugs and their kisses - and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

And while all those precious moments may feel like the best rewards already, I know this goes beyond that. Like all of parenting, this is about stewardship. And I know I am being a poor steward of the children God has entrusted us if all I ever offer them is a distracted mother watching them from afar, interfering only when something seems particularly worthy of attention. How will they ever understand God’s love and omnipresence if even the closest people they have in their lives are so often only half-present one way or another?

And so I pray to be better. I hope to be better. And I hope those pockets of thirty mommy minutes will be a good place to start.