The Pause Button

"Dinner and a movie" just hasn't been penciled in on my calendar since the twins were born. If anything, "dinner and grocery shopping" is more like it. Any movies I see have long ceased to be the topics of blogs and coffee house discussions. Now I know why my parents were clueless about pop culture--raising me and my brother took all their free time.

Through the miracle of TiVo, though, I can watch commercial-free movies once they hit TV. It's a good distraction when I'm folding clothes at night. A few months ago, I had the displeasure of watching Click as I worked through another overloaded basket of laundry.

If you missed this pretty lame flick, the premise is that Adam Sandler's character, Michael, is so focused on getting ahead at work that he has no time for his family. Then one fateful night at Bed Bath and Beyond, he runs into this eccentric guy named Morty who gives him a "life remote control." If you don't want to endure another fight with your wife--hit the fast forward button. If you want to experience something over again--hit the rewind or slow motion buttons.

Cute. But then I realized the remote control obviously had no "pause" button. Huh? Why fast forward through a rotten weekend spent working? Why not just hit the pause button, get all your work done while life is waiting for you, and then start your life again?

If some frazzle haired dude gave me a remote control for my life, that is the first button I'd be looking for!

Just imagine!

I could pause the setting sun and see my husband during the daylight hours...while three, quiet, "paused" children let us catch up on the day together.

I could pause my babies when they put their head on my shoulder for an all-too-quick snuggle.

I could pause the few remaining moments Wyatt and his "Uncle Johnathan" have together before he heads off into a life of military service as a chaplain.
I feel like I've lost a week with the children being sick and another week with me being sick.

I have so little time left with them before they're gone.