My alarm went off at 0630 today. I turned it off. I knew that I HAD to get up, but I rolled over and snuggled up to Heath for just a few more seconds of warmth. Knowing full well that I would go right back to sleep if he didn't get up; and of course was secretly praying he would stay put. And for the first morning in weeks, he did just that. Soon, the alarm was sounding its 0700 call, and I was still in bed, still wondering how I could stay where I was yet still get everyone up and going. Corbett was beginning to let me know he was going to need his second breakfast (because the first came at 0400), and I got up to see if Daniel and Jeffie Jean were up. Its a big day for them, and I was hoping they were more responsible than their mother. Sure enough, they were up, dressed, and The Girl was finishing styling her hair. The Boy was already styled, smelling good, and put together for his day out. So he was sent to wash the dishes that got left last night, and she was sent to start breakfast.
See what happens around here if you are responsible? It got them out of the bathroom, and that was what I needed anyway.
Corbett is beginning to let me know he's about to get desperate. Heath has gotten the littles up. I can hear them not so quietly getting up and around. His coffee is brewing and bible and journal are sitting at their ever consistent spot at the table. I head in to my room to feed the now angry baby, and the parade of good mornings soon follows. Surprisingly, all seem pleasant and excited to start the day. Maybe sending them to bed at 1930 as a punishment last night was really a good thing! Corbett doses off, so I lay him down and head back to the others to see how they are all doing. Heath has gotten laundry in the wash, breakfast is in the oven, and littles are nearly all dressed. Except those two girls, Marian Glen and Georgia Beth. They are still giggling and flitting around pretending as little girls do. I text the oldest who is off at college, and remember how much my heart aches now that it is torn and living in Norman and here. I remember I have important things to send to my sister, and quickly print off the release and sign it. After snapping a quick pic and texting that to her, I begin the hunt for an envelope. Because they grow legs and move every two weeks as soon as I put them away after paying bills. It didn't take all that long this time, and I had that ready to go all before 0800. This is where I foolishly begin to think I'm going to have a productive day. Jeffie Jean brings breakfast and my mug of deliciousness to me, and I set them down to hold Lucy Jo for a few moments. The time has come for Heath to head off to work, and another piece of my heart walks out the door. Everyone else sits down to eat, and I remember I need to rotate the laundry. But its not quite done, so I turn my attention to the smell coming from Lucy Jo's diaper. As soon as that is finished, I look at the clock and realize its time to get the two oldest (of the house now) to the high school to take their PSAT test. Hmmm, I'm still in my pajamas, but know I won't be getting out of the van, so a sweatshirt it is, and out the door we go. Pep talks ensue, and the teens head in to a world they only hear about in stories. Back at the house, we clean up after breakfast, I get that pesky laundry rotated, get TL's envelope mailed, play with the not-napping baby, brush through an epic case of bed-head, continue to strongly instruct children in the art of clean up and self-control, change a couple more diapers, and remember I have a breakfast plate sitting around here somewhere.
I sit down long enough to eat my cold breakfast, gulp down my room temp tea, and send out a couple texts and Facebook well wishes, look longingly on my newest crafting project, and get back to today's tasks. I have forgotten what it's like to have a house without teenagers. I know teens get a bad rap, but really, other that the emotional roller coaster they like to ride, they are invaluable to me. And mine are no exception!
So now, its 1030 in the morning. I still haven't gotten dressed. The baby is calling my name again ever so demandingly. Lucy Jo has been on the table, in the bath tub, over the couch, and under my bed already. A second load of clothes is in the wash, the couch is buried under the dried clean clothes. The kitchen still has breakfast dishes to do. The piano is plinging (is that a word?)
along with the tune of new students and difficult lessons for old students. Marian Glen is living in her world of make believe. And I am teaching five different children 100 different lessons. Or something like that.
These are my days. They differ slightly. Mondays are full with Food Pantry work and school with my Mom. Tuesdays are juggling Heath being off and still trying to get school taught. Wednesdays consist of school and a long, late, yet rewarding night at church. Thursdays are our slow day with just school on the regular schedule. Fridays are full of last minute assignments, and children being released from a week full of work and responsibilities. It's full around here. Sometimes I feel like an unwilling slave in the belly of a ship rowing to the ever present beat of the drum of time. Some days, I just want to throw down the shackles of responsibility, and fly free; satisfying my every whim. Other days, I so desperately miss my Malcolm that I just want to hide in my room eating my sorrows into oblivion until he comes home. And then there are the days I just want to sleep. Like, leave my bed for only bathroom purposes, turn on the TV and binge on ridiculousness and sleep. But most days, I go about my day happily fulfilling my purpose as a wife and mother. I change diapers, wash clothes, clean dishes, kiss faces, care for scrapes, find STUFF, keep the peace, remember everything, and love my children. Because no one can do this as well as I can for my children. They are the pieces of my heart, and I am their heartbeat. The day will come when I'm sitting on my couch, fully dressed, chores done, crafts completed, and its 1030 and I won't know what to do with the rest of the day. For the pieces of my heart will be scattered across this land.
I know that the dishes will always need washing, the laundry ever present. This isn't a sprint we are running, but a long race with many curves, hills, and obstacles. I'm so very happy to be spending this race with my family; worn, busy, and content.
Thank you Lord for who You are. You are ruler over all, and still wanted me. You are my Creator, Sustainer, and Author. And even in my wickedness, You became my Savior, Redeemer, Champion. Despite my weakness, You have blessed me beyond measure, and lent me your children. Give me the grace to raise them in Your likeness. Praise to You and You alone.