There are some days when I look at Jordan, and I think, “Boy, he’s got it made.”
What I mean by that is he wakes in the morning with me and Jameson, and typically gets to enjoy Jameson at his best — fresh off of about 12 hours of sleep (ok, maybe you’re thinking both Jordan and I have it made, given that our baby sleeps for so long at night. But don’t get distracted. Just stick with me here.)
After spending a couple hours with Jameson in the morning, Jordan heads out to the office — to work on his life’s passion and have engaging conversations and planning sessions and heart-t0-hearts with a group of pretty amazing adults (shout out to the Renaissance Church staff and community.) For as much as he loves me and Jameson, I know there are mornings when he can’t wait to kiss us goodbye and get out that door.
After a day’s work, Jordan makes it home around 5 p.m. and gets to hang out with Jameson, who is always super excited to see him, for about 90 minutes before we start the nightly bedtime routine. Dinner and unwinding on the couch follows. I share a random recap and possibly photos I clumsily captured with my iPhone throughout the day.
In this little routine of ours, it sometimes feels like Jordan gets the best moments and misses the worst. No naptime fighting. No messy feedings. No chasing around the house. No whining. No getting nothing on his to-do list done. He gets a dose of those things when he’s home, of course, but there’s always the promise of escape not too far away.
Now, the rational side of my brain knows that Jordan’s day has it’s own share of challenges. He shoulders the weight of listening to all kinds of pain and mess that burden the people in our community. He manages a team. He pours out a ton and still there are always people who aren’t happy and want more. And he has to fight to find quiet moments to himself to be with Jesus and not just do for Jesus.
My rational side knows all of this. But I can still find myself thinking that the grass is greener on the other side.
Yes, some days when I look at Jordan, I think, “Boy, he’s got it made.”But then, there are other days, like yesterday when I get to watch Jameson giddy with excitement at his “music class,” and introduce him to Pinkberry, and walk through Central Park as it comes alive with blooms, and sit on a blanket under said blooms, and share a slice of NY pizza, and walk up the Upper West Side to Harlem as he clapped at every stranger that passed.Days like that are days when I never question whether or not the grass is greener on the other side. On days like that, when I’m sitting on soft, green grass in the middle of Central Park, with my favorite little person, with no particular plan or time schedule to keep — I look at myself, and I think, “Boy, it might not always feel like it, but… I’ve got it made.”