Present Over Perfect

play soccer again? Does he want to start piano, or move to a
different town, or get bunk beds?
“More this,” he said. “More time all together like this.
And at home. I like it when we’re all together at home.”
Aaron and I looked at one another over his head, letting the
other know that we heard it, too, that we were paying
attention.
Aaron and I are both intense, passionate people. We’re
artists and makers, and neither of us ever saw ourselves in a
leave-work-at-the-office, nine-to-five kind of arrangement.
When we were single, we worked around the clock, and
loved it. And when we were married without kids, we did
the same—we worked together, yelling across the hall from
one office to the other about where we should stop for
dinner on the way home, often after 10 p.m.
But now those patterns are being upended, for our two
wild and silly darlings. And although we’re making the
changes for them, I can see how the changes benefit our
neighbors and extended families and church community.
And I can see very clearly how these changes benefit our
marriage.
Loving one’s work is a gift. And loving one’s work
makes it really easy to neglect other parts of life.
Aaron and I are talking a lot these days about work and
time and calling, hoping to hold each one of them in their
appropriate place, hoping to be honest about which ones
matter more than the others.
Being good at something feels great. Playing ninja turtles