Sometimes people need a little prodding to get into shape, literally. Eli poked my belly the other day and said in his sweet, charming way, “Wow, your bewwy is squishy!” That was enough for me to dust off the old Pilates DVD and get back on track. Conjuring the report I watched years back on how many of the US National Women’s Soccer Team were, indeed, brand new mommas or mommas to multiple children, I tried to channel Mia Hamm this morning as I woke up. I really did feel motivated to do my 30 minutes of Pilates before my cup of coffee this Sunday morning.

While my dear friend Ana Caban was wearing her sexy leggings and sports bra on some Tahitian beach in utter solitude, I was donning my jammies on my crumb-littered playroom floor. I was moving on to breath two of the Pilates one hundred when all my children, dog included decided to join me. So, here I was, dog at my side, panting in my face, Phin climbing on top of me with his fresh stinky diaper, and Eli telling me kindly, “That’s not what she is doing mom, she is doing it different.”

I could have chosen to cry and lament my absent abs and the delay of their comeback, but instead, the Lord gave me grace to laugh hysterically with joy. You see, this past week both my big boys were at school all day for the first time ever. I thought it would be a joyful reprieve, but I found my house a little too clean and quiet. I missed their nagging, “Mom, mom… MOM” cries, I missed the Lego army’s advance into my kitchen. In their absence, I was actually able to appreciate and treasure the gift of their presence, messy and interruptive as it may be.

So please excuse my muffin top, I am actively trying to enjoy the presence of these presents from God for as long as I can.