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Andrea and the computer don't mix. If I get on at all during her waking hours she's immediately at my side tapping my leg indicating she wants on my lap. She doesn't just sit and watch either. She wants to type like mommy. I know I've sent out some interesting Primary e-mails because I was in such a hurry to finish so the child crying at my feet could have some attention.
When I put my sweet child to bed, I am finally able to decompress and spend some time online staring at the IKEA website or lovely blogs with brightly colored furniture. After an hour of this I am ready for bed and start encouraging Paul to join me. He resists going to bed at nine. Weird. So we compromise and I nap while he finishes tax homework or gets three stars in Angry Birds.
At least, I try to nap, but when I close my eyes I see yellow dressers and purple couches and turquoise chairs and orange mirrors and black cribs and red picture frames and an angry bird being hurled at all of them. It's not relaxing. Giving up on the nap I sit up in bed, grab a Reader's Digest, and stew about how ugly I find the mismatched furniture in my bedroom. Then I wonder if I'll ever be able to buy a proper bed frame.
Last night as Paul joined me in bed we knelt across from each other in preparation for prayers. He asked me to pray (as he does five out of the seven nights a week) but instead of praying I blurted out, "I don't think I can ever join Pinterest!" He probably doesn't even know what that is as I have yet to see a man with an account. But he didn't inquire what it was rather why I was opposed. I told him about my dreams and the images burned in my retinas.
He said it sounded like coveting.
"No!" I defended. "I'm not coveting. I'm just struggling to feel gratitude for what I have when I see all of the things I don't." As soon as the words came out of my mouth I realized it DID, in fact, sound a lot like coveting. What a coincidence. . .
Neal A. Maxwell said:
Myopic selfishness magnifies a mess of pottage and makes thirty pieces of silver look like a treasure trove. In our intense acquisitiveness, we forget Him who once said, “What is property unto me?”I think it's time for a break from the IKEA website and beautiful DIY blogs, and I should start that gratitude journal I've been talking about for years.
P.S. This is just too cute. She no longer wants us to cut her food up, but she gets a little too eager to eat it whole.
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