falling into domesticity

I had a very nice phone date recently with Marisa, my best friend from college, and I’ve been reflecting on the fact that my junior year of college was really only 8 years ago.  I feel like my idea of myself and my goals for my life have completely transformed since then.  At 20, I was wholeheartedly devoted to academics and on my way to graduating summa cum laude from Northwestern University and was preparing to take the LSAT and planning to become a public interest attorney.  I once responded to an older friend’s comment that she tried to include a vegetable with every dinner with a sarcastic, “yeah, me too” – and expected she’d realize it was sarcastic (she didn’t), because obviously I wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort.

Now, at 28, I work part-time but am mostly a stay-at-home wife and mom – a breast-feeding, baby-wearing, sometimes co-sleeping, planning-to-homeschool stay-at-home mom at that.  And apparently I have become domestic.  I bake friendship bread every 10 days or so.  I recently got a new cookbook in the mail, and I am utterly thrilled.  It’s The $5 Dinner Mom Cookbook, full of inexpensive but healthy dinner recipes that actually sound appealing, and I can’t wait to try them (as well as some of the author’s other money-saving tips).  I love the idea of feeding our family well at the same time we’re being good stewards of the money God has given us.  And on top of all that, I’ve recently started making my own granola bars.   Technically there’s not actually any granola in them, but I’m not sure what else to call them.  I also make almost all my own baby food, and we are using almost exclusively cloth diapers.  Eight years ago, these were not at all the things I expected to be doing.  I’m totally domestic now, and I really didn’t see that coming.

I think that’s different than being domesticated, though.  There’s nothing tame or dull about the life I lead (though I do have bad days when I might feel like questioning this statement, even while I know it’s true).  I get to spend my days caring for these two as well as I possibly can.

I’m facilitating all that Matt does, and I’m making as big of an investment as I possibly can in Miranda – this precious little person God has entrusted to our care.  We’re involved with the university, with our church, and in various other ways around our city.  I interact with a wide range of different people, talking with them about their hearts, their lives, their troubles, and their passions.  That’s such dynamic stuff, and it matters.  People matter, and I love that I get to live life with so many of them.

And much of my day-to-day life involves caring for Miranda – teaching her about this world, her Creator, herself, and ultimately about how to live.  What could possibly be more valuable than that?  Plus, I absolutely love our time together, more than I could have ever imagined.  This domestic life is pretty awesome 🙂

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0 thoughts on “falling into domesticity

  1. this is my first visit to your actual blog! (i usually just read it through google reader, which is why i never comment.) your comment about your life not being tame reminded me of a quote from one of the narnia books about aslan not being tame. googled, and i couldn’t find exactly the quote i was looking for, but i’ll leave this one for you anyway. 🙂 good and tame don’t necessarily go hand in hand!

    “Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thougth he was a man. Is he–quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

    “That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver, “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else silly.”

    “Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

    “Safe?” said Mr. Beaver. “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

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