Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Can I call for a Mulligan?!


It was just one of those days.  It started with Heath getting a late start. You know, the panicked, "OH NO! WHAT TIME IS IT?!!! kind of starts. And I, being the wonderful, supportive wife that I am, rolled over and put the covers over my head so he wouldn't disturb me anymore.

I had a large laundry list of things to do. And speaking of laundry, I think I could have given the Duggars a run for their money today. The boys once again decided that it was time to quit hiding all their dirty clothes because they didn't have a single garment left in their drawers. So I had like a months worth of stinky, sweaty, dirty boy clothes added to the piles. Nice.

I started my bread for the morning. And set out my cream for butter making in the afternoon. I'm new to the raw milk world, and the real reason I even am trying the raw milk is because the cream fascinates me and I wanted to make butter.  The kids cleaned up from breakfast and got started on school work. I ran after Anderson all morning. Chasing him out of my room, where he wreaks havoc. Out of the bathroom, where he plays in floods. Out of the pantry, where he loves to eat. Out of everything. Got two more loads of laundry through the wash.

Made nachos for lunch. Had to unload and load dishwasher again just so I could get to the counters. Got everyone fed, rotated laundry, and sat down for a minute or two for a break. Heath was back home, and it was nice to sit with him for a little bit. And suddenly I had the panicked, "OH NO!! WHAT TIME IS IT?!!!!! moment. I apparently fell asleep. For FOUR hours. Yep. I slept through everything. In my sleepy stupor, I told Jeffie Jean how to punch down the bread dough, knead it, shape it, and stick it in pans for their second rising. Let the little ones watch some cartoons. I kind of scared to find out what else I might have agreed to! Once I woke up, bread was put in the oven. Cream was shook into butter. And I chased Anderson some more. First, he decided he didn't like his dirty diaper anymore, and took it off all by himself. It took 23 wipes and a half a bottle of Resolve to clean that mess up. And while I was throwing everything away, he needed to go to the bathroom some more. And I hadn't put a clean diaper on him yet. 33 wipes later, and the rest of the Resolve, I had that taken care of. And a very smartly diapered boy at that too. While scrubbing the next two layers of skin off my hands, he walked to the pantry and dumped all 3 pounds of chocolate chips into the floor and had a feeding frenzy. More wipes, and this time a broom, and we're clean again. I'm cleaning the kitchen, and smell pumpkin pie suddenly. Run back to the pantry, and find not pie, but Anderson standing on my massive flour container pouring ground cloves, all spice, and cinnamon into his mouth. These things are at my eye level. That's how high he had climbed. More wipes, and the vacuum, and we're clean. Again. And I have a fleeting thought that maybe his diaper won't smell so bad tomorrow. Well, that and I wondered if it would be bad if I tied a leash to the bedpost and clipped it to him for a while.  An hour later he's covered in chocolate again. He dumped it all! Where could he get more? We threw it .. all...away. Yep. The kitchen floor is covered in trash. And he's still trying to dig out chocolate chips. Finish off the box of wipes. Broom, mop, and bleach later, it is clean again. And I pray hard for time to warp forward to bedtime.

The bread was baked somewhere in there. The butter rinsed and in the 'fridge. I have more on my to-do list than my done list. And more will be added tomorrow. But that little boy, grabbed my neck tonight and kissed me with all the slobber a two year old can muster. And said those words that made me forget my exhaustion. "I lub you Mommy" in his deep, husky voice. And as each child came in tonight to tell me good night, I forgot how stinky their socks were, how icky the undies sometimes seem. I forgot my irritation with the constant, "can Is?", or with the unmade beds. As I stretched up to hug my oldest, and he planted a firm kiss on my forehead, I forgot to be mad at having to pick up his man sized shoes yet again. So maybe I don't need a do over on this day. I just need to do-over my attitude and outlook. These days are just a vapor after all.

Beth