Late Night Thoughts

Last night as the big kids prepared for bed, Mr. Level-Headed and I sat on our bed watching the two-under-two crew play. What are those babies doing up so late? We were wondering the same thing. Leif was practicing jumping with two feet while Harriet was practicing blowing raspberries; I guess some things are more important than sleep. Mr. Level-Headed and I smiled as Leif bent down to kiss Harriet on the head after each jump and she returned his thoughtfulness with a grin and a coo.

This is the most challenging stage of my life so far. I am being stretched in more ways and in more directions than I would have ever thought possible. It's funny because when having more children was simply a dream of mine, I would envision them just joining us for the ride. I forgot that each baby brings with them their own purpose, their own unique set of needs and their own dreams, and that my role as their mom is to ensure that they are able to find their own path and have the tools they need to navigate it successfully when that time comes. These babies are not mine and all of THIS has nothing to do with me. THIS is for them, all five of them, and by being given the opportunity to raise these five amazing individuals, I have found my own path. Although I often feel like I am completely incapable of taking yet another step, I do and then I take another step. My entire life has prepared me for this moment. All those years I cared for and toted around my plastic baby, Laura, I was preparing to love and nurture my real babies. All those years I spent getting an education and eventually obtaining two degrees has helped me to teach, inspire and encourage my own children to do the same. And all those years I longed to hold more babies and all the pain and heartache I suffered trying to have them taught me how to truly appreciate my babies when they finally arrived. My life has taught me patience. It has taught me perseverance and it has shown me that I can do hard things. No matter how difficult my days of being a mama of five are, I know I can do it. I was made for these days, and I am going to cherish every moment of them. 

So, when Mr. Level-Headed looked up at me, smiled and commented:

These two are going to be so close.

Even though I was very tired and wanted nothing more than for this day to finally be done, I smiled back:

Yes, they are, and that is why we are doing this.

I love you, two-under-two crew!

The Big Three . . .

Yesterday summed up perfectly what I find to be the hardest three things about this particular phase of mamahood that I am currently immersed in. It was a beautiful fall day, and Zoe had an appointment to get her Remicade infusion in town right after lunch. Since her appointment typically takes 2 1/2 hours, I decided to take the two-under-two crew to Rockwood Park while we waited for her to finish up. Like I said, it was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining and there was a gentle cool breeze blowing that made it the perfect temperature for jeans and a t-shirt. We had the entire park to ourselves, but unfortunately, thanks to Leif's recent aversion to a full night's sleep, I was exhausted. Rather than run and play alongside Leif on the climbing structure like I typically do, I sat on a nearby bench with Harriet on my knee, encouraging him from afar.

Good job, Bud. Now go down the slide.

As any parent will tell you, this does not work well, and Leif quickly became bored. Can you blame him, though? It really isn't fun playing by yourself. Thanks to boredom, Leif did not stay in one place for long and so we spent the majority of our time at the park meandering back and forth between the lake and the playground.

I really hate being tired and this is one of the hardest parts of being a mama right now for me. I become very cranky and impatient when I am tired and neither of these qualities are conducive to handling an equally tired toddler whose tantrums increase in duration, intensity and frequency with each hour of sleep he misses. Let's just say that Leif and I were not the best of friends yesterday, and those days make me sad. I know what kind of mom I can be, and I really like her, but on very little sleep, it is like I can see that mom drifting out to sea and as hard as I try, I cannot reach her to bring her back.

Ugh . . .

Leif has not been sleeping well for the past two weeks. He wakes up numerous times at night and then is waking up for an hour or so at 4am and falling back to sleep just as my alarm goes off. Then, because he is in a state of over-tiredness, he is not napping well either - 30 minutes tops. We are both about to lose our mind. I suspect this inability to sleep is thanks to the abundance of words he is all of a sudden able to say. With my older three kids, monumental milestones always accompanied an inability to sleep. I think it has something to do with the flurry of activity that is going on in their little brains at that time.

But I also think that this sudden disruption in sleep could have something to do with our lack of routine. Since school has started, as hard as I try to stick to nap times and daily routines, it has not been working because every day brings a new schedule. With five kids, someone always has one appointment or another - doctor's, dentist's, physio, etc. Throw three different school soccer schedules in the mix and we find ourselves running this way and that most days. I suspect all of this disruption has really thrown Leif's system out of whack, and this brings me to the second hardest aspect of my current state of mamahood - a lack of routine. With five kids ranging from infant to teenagers, our life is busy, crazy busy and I am really struggling trying to establish a routine.

Anyhoo . . . 

Back to the park. Growing tired of chasing Leif back and forth for an hour and a half, I plopped him and Harriet into their double stroller and we went for a walk. After his initial fuss over being restrained, Leif quickly settled into his seat and began to enjoy the sights of our walk.

Wuz zhat? Wuz zhat?

Then my phone buzzed. I looked down to see that Baby Girl had texted me. My heart leapt . . . woohoo! She is done.  Then my heart broke as I read the next three words.

It happened again.

I knew exactly what she was talking about; two infusions ago, Zoe had a reaction to her Remicade, which caused her airway to swell and made it difficult for her to breathe. This is one of the many, and probably least scary, side effects of Remicade . . . Ugh. For the record, I HATE colitis and I hate the fact that I have to give my big, Baby Girl this drug, but after dealing with this disease for almost four years now and having nothing else work, this is what we have to do.

Can you come. I am pretty shaken up.

I picked up my pace and quickly returned to the van with the two-under-two crew. Leif, who was soaking wet from wading in the lake, needed to be changed but I did not want to waste any time. I whipped his pants and shoes off, strapped him and Harriet into their seats and drove off. My heart was racing. I was so mad at myself for not being there . . . again . . . for Zoe during this scary experience. Yes, I also missed the first reaction . . . ugh.  

We pulled into the parking lot. I stopped the car, and jumped out. I quickly found Leif's change of pants and slipped them on. Since his sneakers were too wet to put back on, I placed him on my hip and put Harriet on the other and then ran inside, where I was greeted by the nurse.

She is sleeping right now. We gave her more Benadryl. We have restarted the IV and she seems to be okay. Since we had to stop and restart it at a much slower pace, she will not be done for another two hours. We will text you when she is ready to be picked up.

I stood there looking in on Zoe who was peacefully sleeping under the fleece red blanket I had made her two years ago. Looking at the two babies on my hips and seeing how many patients were currently hooked up to IV's in the tiny, cramped clinic, I felt completely helpless. I knew I couldn't stay, but I really did not want to leave her side. Her nurse must have read my mind:

She is going to be okay, Krista. When she wakes up, I will tell her that you stopped in.

Thank you.

With my babies in tow, I turned around and walked back to the car, much slower this time. I felt like all the life had just been deflated from my body.  No matter how hard I try, I consistently let one of my kids down. By attending the older kids' soccer games and appointments, I have disrupted Leif's sleep schedule. Because I have two babies to care for, I can no longer sit with Zoe during her appointments. Because I am not getting much sleep, I am not as patient as I once was while doing homework or as fun on the playground. . . and so on and so on. I think not being able to attend to all of my kids' needs is definitely the hardest and most frustrating part of being a mama of five.

I could have really beaten myself up, but I chose not to. Instead, I headed to my mom's house where Coca Cola flows on tap and where there is never a short supply of arms or laps to hold and entertain two babies under two.

By 7:30pm we had all returned home. As I stood at the island, putting the day's dishes in the dishwasher, I looked around at my family:  Mr. Level-Headed was discussing Elliot's soccer game against Rothesay High School with him, which they tied . . . woohoo!, Leif and Avery were in the middle of an intense game of tag, and Zoe was snuggling with Harriet, who has recently found her voice and currently spends most of her days telling us off . . . er, I mean . . . telling us stories. I couldn't help but smile at all of them. They are all mine. I may be doing a craptastic job at this mama of five gig, but I am trying my best, and I think that my sincere love for each of them and my desire to be the best mom I can be will shorten the gap between the mama I know I can be and the mama I actually am. I hope.

Elliot #20, rushing the goalie. Thanks Monique for the pic!

Quick, Grab Me a Bottle

Do you ever have those moments when you are no longer in the moment; but rather you are standing outside of it? I guess you could refer to it as an out-of-body experience, but to me that word seems to imply something tragic has occurred. I think we have all seen those movies where the spirit stands outside of the body and watches their loved ones mourn for them. That's not what I am talking about. I am simply referring to one of those moments where you kind of stop what you are doing, zone out from what is going on around you and think, gosh, this is awesome.

I had two of those moments yesterday. The first one happened while I was packing the kids' lunches. Harriet was sitting in her bouncy chair on the table, desperately trying to talk to me. Leif and Avery were kicking balls around the living room . . . surprise! And Zoe and Elliot were still getting ready. I had the lunches lined up on the counter, when Avery came running over, asking me to sign a couple of forms. I sighed and reminded him once again that these things need to be done the night before.

I know! But I forgot.

Just then I stopped and was overcome by a feeling of gratitude. I had all of my kiddos with me. It was hectic but everyone was happy and healthy. These mornings are numbered and that is killing me. Zoe will be off to university next year and I will not have to make her lunches anymore. Sure, with her gone, there will be enough hot water for everyone in the house to have a shower in the morning and we will no longer need gas masks to deal with all the products she sprays on herself in the morning, but I am really going to miss her. I am going to miss THIS. So, for now, I am going to treasure these mornings.

The second moment was after supper. I am seriously on a hot streak, folks, because the past two nights I have presented my family with a yummy, healthy home-cooked meal that everyone enjoyed. How awesome is that? Pardon me while I do a little dance. 

Anyhoo . . . 

As I was washing the supper dishes, Zoe and Elliot were sitting at the table doing their homework. Leif and Avery were . . . can you guess? Yep, they were kicking a ball . . . tee hee! but this time they were outside and they were kicking the ball around with Mr. Level-Headed. Harriet was seated in her bouncy chair, grinning and trying, once again, to talk to me. Boy, that girl has lots she wants to say! Looking around and being able to see all of my favourites close by, made me stop and marvel at how incredibly lucky I am. Later when I was bathing Harriet, Leif and Mr. Level-Headed came in the bathroom and hung out with us. Two seconds later, Avery knocked on the door and asked if he could come in. I think everyone was enjoying just being together last night and so it did not phase any of us that we were in a tiny,cramped bathroom being entertained by a two month old splashing and kicking in the water.These are my favourite kinds of nights, where everyone is home together, busy doing their own thing, but all together nonetheless. These are the moments I want to bottle up and remember when it is just Mr. Level-Headed and I and we are all alone in our very neat and very quiet home. These are the moments that exemplify what family is all about for me and these are the moments that make me look back fondly on the moments I spent with my family as a child, the moments that made me want a family of my own someday.

Unfortunately, life is busy, and we don't always get to have these nights together. Unfortunately, kids grow up and life changes, but for now, while I do have all of my munchkins safely tucked under the same roof, I am going to appreciate them and try my best not to get too overwhelmed at how loud they are, or how messy they are or how busy and tired I am. Unfortunately, these moments are numbered, and I have no idea what I am going to do without them.

Awwww . . . my baby girls.

Just a Typical Day

Yesterday afternoon, I packed Avery, Leif and Harriet into the van and we picked Elliot up to take him to his physiotherapist appointment in town. Thankfully, Elliot was Rob's only client that day, and so Leif and Avery were able to play with all the balls and other cool toys Rob has on hand in his examination room. I love people who understand that kids need to move and explore, and Rob made the boys feel comfortable enough to do just that. It sure made the hour and half we spent there much easier on me, and Leif was in heaven! And Rob was amazed at how strong Leif's motor skills are.

He's a freak of nature! He shouldn't even be able to do that. Wow!

I also love when people recognize and celebrate my kids' talents.

After the appointment, I had to run into Sobey's to pick up a few things. Since it was 5:30 the boys were getting pretty hangry (best word ever!) and Harriet, who had slept in her sling the entire time we were at Rob's (phew!) was now awake and wanted to nurse. The big boys were fighting and Leif and Harriet were crying as I rushed into Sobey's. I found some ice cream bars that were on for half-price and fed them to my boys once I returned to the car. This kept them quiet until we got home. Harriet, unfortunately, would only be consoled with a warm booby, but I did not have time:

Sorry, baby girl. It is time to put your big girl panties on. We will be home soon.

Being number five, she hears that a lot.

Thankfully, the line-up at the ferry was short and we got right onto the next boat. As soon as we pulled into the driveway, I started barking out orders:

Elliot, you are in charge of Leif and picking up your school stuff off the van floor.

I have no idea why he emptied his backpack.

Avery, you need to grab my purse, the garbage and Elliot's gym bag. I will grab Harriet.

As we opened the door, we were warmly greeted by the delicious-smelling supper I had wisely put in the crockpot before we left for town. I changed both the babies's bums and then nursed Harriet. Leif and Avery once again grabbed some balls and were juggling/kicking them around the living room. It amazes me that they never seem to grow tired of playing with a ball. Elliot had fallen asleep as soon as we got home. Once Harriet's belly was full and she was content, I asked the boys to set the table while I made a salad. It may have been 7pm, but we were finally able to sit down and eat a yummy dinner, and amazingly enough, everyone liked it . . . small victory!

\

As soon as supper was done, the boys cleared off the table, while I nursed Harriet again. She always milk-loads right before bed. Mr. Level-Headed, who came home late, had just finished his supper so I asked him to bath Leif.

By 9pm both babies were asleep and this mama was ready to crawl in bed beside them.

Mom, can you help me with my homework?

 I wanted to cry, but I took my own advice and decided to act like a big girl.

Of course, Elliot.

By 10:30 as I was looking over Elliot's completed assignment, I felt two strong arms come from behind and wrap around my shoulders:

Thanks, mom, for helping me.

And in that one moment, I remembered exactly why I do this crazy job I do day after day.

Anytime, Bud.

I love being a mom!

Morning Mayhem

*please note that this post goes through periods of where there are no capital letters used due to the fact that I had a nursing infant attached to me and could only use one hand . . . carry on.

i woke up late this morning, and that pretty much guarantees that our morning will be crumby. i woke up avery and he hopped into the shower. then i went downstairs and harassed elliot until he dragged his lifeless body out of bed. 

come on, bud. you can do this! we are late and you need to start moving.

I rushed into the storage room to grab two cans of Alpha-getti for the boys' lunch (nothing but the best for my munchkins) and then I bolted back upstairs to get breakfast made, lunches packed and two boys dressed and ready for the day. like every other morning this week, though, i had to wade through the previous night's supper dishes in order to even find a space big enough to spread their lunch boxes out. At this point, I decided to scrap the pancakes I had intended to make, according to the lovely menu plan I had so painstakingly created on the weekend, and declared breakfast to be cereal . . . again. BUT, then I remembered that Avery's goat's milk was all gone, and since he gets terrible pains from cow's milk and he does not like rice milk on his cereal, pancakes were back on the menu. ugh!

come on boys! you are going to be late!

So, as the Alpha-getti was cooking and I was throwing in crackers, apples, clementines,and brownies into their lunch boxes, I was also scrambling to wash out the mixing bowl and gather the pancake ingredients.

do you boys have your soccer stuff packed for practice today? Elliot, get your socks and sneakers on.

mom, the baby pooped.

i will change him after.

mom, where are my cleats?

at the back door.

mom, I have no clean socks.

check the laundry pile in the living room.

mom, did you sign my homework folder?

yes.

mom. the baby is in the dishwasher.

just remove the knives.

Text: are you guys ready for prayer

(we've been saying our daily morning prayer via speaker phone with Derrick just before he goes into work)

give me two minutes. 

At 7:35 (five minutes before the boys leave for the bus) i placed pancakes in front of them and we all gathered around to say the world's quickest prayer.then i dashed outside in my jammies to grab their soccer socks that had been left on the clothes line. i finished packing their lunches, closed up their book bags and sent the boys running up the driveway to catch the bus that was seconds away from our house. 

i love you!

we know!

Glowing with pride over my ultimate, super mama skills for getting the boys out the door washed, fed, and watered just in time to catch the bus yet again, I felt pretty invincible.

Take that Thursday morning! You are no match for me. Now, I am off to tackle a dirty diaper and feed my baby. Leif!

And there he was elbow deep in the bin of flour I had left opened on the floor . . .

ugh! foiled again.

Every super hero has one villain that brings them to their knees daily, and mine happens to be an 18lbs, blonde, blue-eyed baby with a penchant for stirring up shenanigans.

At least he keeps me humble.

How Quickly We Forget

Last week I was bound and determined to get back on track. On Sunday evening I wrote a detailed plan for the week ahead, and on Monday morning I kicked it into high gear. By Saturday morning I was worn out. I can always tell when I have reached my limit because I begin to grumble over the most trivial things:

Ugh! Derrick took the wrong lunch with him today.

When will Zoe learn to clean up her school books when she is done with them?

Why can't Elliot shut his dresser drawers when he is done rifling through them?

The only thing that put a smile on my face was the fact that within an hour they would all be gone, leaving Leif and I alone to tackle the to-do list. As soon as I returned home from dropping the kids off at soccer, I placed Leif on his toy mat, and I started to clean up the breakfast dishes. Unfortunately, Leif' did not feel like playing and he quickly began to fuss. I grumbled and picked him up.

Well, then it is time for you to go to sleep my little man. Mama has lots to do today.

So, I had a seat in the living room and began to nurse him. In no time he was fast asleep. I scooped Leif up in my arms and quietly walked him into our room where I gently placed him in his crib. Then I crept back out and headed back to the kitchen. As I was finishing up the dishes and was just about to switch the laundry over, I heard Leif crying. 

Ugh!

I went back into the room and patted his back hoping it would soothe him, but he was too upset.

Well, Leif, I guess you are going to have to get in the carrier and help mama finish her chores today.

But he was having none of this. He cried and cried. 

Leif, you have to man up. This is ridiculous.

Then I headed to the laundry room with my crying baby in tow. As I knelt before the dryer pulling out all the towels, I explained to Leif once again that he was being ridiculous and that he needed to suck it up. By now, even I was crying. I only had half of the towels in the laundry basket when all of a sudden I stopped. I stood up and walked upstairs. I took Leif out of the carrier, sat back down on the chair with him, and pulled out a boob. As I gazed into his eyes, still wet from all his tears, he smiled at me and a thought popped into my head:

How many Saturdays have I spent over the past few years doing laundry, washing dishes, and making meals with a heavy heart because I wanted nothing more than my baby to hold?

So, I settled in for the afternoon. This time when Leif fell asleep I did not budge. I turned on the television, neglected my chores and snuggled my baby. It was exactly what this weary mom needed.

When Leif finally woke up three hours later, I handed him over to play with Zoe. I felt refreshed. I had reconnected with my baby and I was no longer grouchy. I quickly finished up my laundry and put Leif back into the carrier. This time, though, we were heading outside for a walk to enjoy the spring-like weather, and we were both much happier people.

Being a mom is tough. As much as we would like to play with our children and hold our babies all day long, we can't. We have work that needs to be done. Like everything in life, the key is finding a balance. So this week, when I sit down to plan the week ahead, I am leaving Saturday afternoon wide open because this little guy (and the one in front of him . . . tee hee!) is pretty special to me, and I am going to take every possible opportunity to enjoy him.

While you are here, check out how handsome my boys looked in their church clothes today:

I am one very lucky mama!   

Elliot, Elliot, Elliot

It's FRIDAY!

I can't believe it is finally here.  I never thought I would survive this week, but low and behold, here I am.  This weekend, I am resting. We have a pizza party planned with the Skov's but other than that, there is nothing on the agenda. Soccer was cancelled, which means we can spend our entire Saturday in our jammies, being sloth-like, and this is exactly what my body needs right now. You see, I am currently in Operation-No-Pneumonia mode, a battle I fight and lose every winter, but not this year.  Oh, no, NOT this year. In fact, I woke up this morning with barely a cough, and I can take a nice, long, deep breath without feeling any pinches in my lungs. Hooray!  What did I tell ya?  2013 is going to be my year.

If you are on my Facebook feed, then you heard the bad news. Yes, my fridge died.  My practically brand-new, no longer under warranty, refrigerator no longer refrigerates. Ugh!  But, I am going to save my rant about this disgustingly disposable society we live in for another day. It's Friday! Fridays need to be light and fluffy. Only fun stuff must be shared on Friday. So, here it is: the most ridiculous thing I heard yesterday, and of course, it came from none other than one of my boys.  Honestly, they are absolutely foolish, and I love them all the more because of it.

Let me set it up for you.  Soccer had just begun and I was sitting on the bench in the hallway listening to all the conversations going on around me.  My friend Sheri had just dropped her daughter off, took one look at me and said:

I'm driving the boys home.  You look like you need to sleep.

I started to politely brush her offer off, but I didn't even have it in me to fight.

Thanks, Sheri!

I went home, put my jammies on and got into bed. It was exactly what I needed. Eventually Mr. Level-Headed and Baby Girl came home from volleyball practice with our big grocery order for the week. Since our new fridge is supposed to show up sometime today, we decided to just go ahead and get the groceries anyway and put the food in a cooler.

After everything was put away, Sheri pulled up with the boys.  Elliot came in and saw the cooler sitting on the kitchen floor. He immediately ran over to it and shouted:

Awesome!  Is this our new fridge?

We all stopped and looked at him.

Nope.  That's the cooler.

He looked at it again, shrugged and laughed:

Awesome!  We're taking it old school now!

 . . . tee hee!

He then spent the remainder of the evening making plans for when we go broke and have to live in a tent, which Elliot sees as inevitable because, according to him, his mom is too lazy to get a real job and his dad is, and I quote, "a washed-up businessman".  

. . . tee hee!

What a kid!  I wish I could crawl into his brain and spend just one day seeing the world through his eyes.  I am sure it would be completely nonsensical and yet, completely wonderful at the same time.  Come to think of it, though, perhaps I do live in that very same world, and I must say, the view isn't too bad from here.

Happy Friday everyone!

On the Bright Side

I hate being sick!  I hate not being able to care for my family.  I hate seeing important stuff like school, laundry, and groceries fall by the wayside, and I hate sleeping my days away. Our life is not that exciting, but I love every stinking moment of it, and it really brings me down when I can't be a part of it.

grrrrrrr . . .

Yesterday, in spite of feeling crummy and grimy, I made a promise to myself that I would just roll with the punches. I would not fret that my boys had only cereal and Eggos to eat or that they had packed in a year's worth of screen time in just one day. I would not freak out that our four year old refrigerator had just died and everything in the freezer had defrosted.  I would not cry that in my feverish state and with my hubby in class all afternoon, I would have to clean out the freezer all by myself in order to rid my house of the awful odour seeping from it.  I would not complain that thanks to one of my most recent grand ideas, where I allowed our dishwasher detergent to run out so that the kids could start doing the supper dishes and learn a valuable life skill, I now had to wash all those containers by hand. Nope. I was going to be cool with it all, and for the most part, I was.

I laid in bed and watched Netflix on my computer.  I got up, emptied out the freezer, and sent the boys on five trips to the compost bin.  I went back to bed.  I slept for two hours.  I woke up and put all the containers in the dishwasher and texted Mr. Level-Headed to bring home some detergent . . . tee hee! I laid on the couch and watched a movie with the boys.  I slept some more. I texted Mr. Level-Headed again to convince the repairman that we cannot wait until Monday as he originally told me, to bring home supper, take Avery to an activity at our church, pick Zoe up after volleyball practice, then help run the activity at our church because we were short a person, get a few groceries and finally, come home and give me some much needed attention.  I really have the best husband in the world!

Finally, night came.  Mr. Level-Headed put the groceries away, Zoe went on a tirade about how it had been the worst day ever (Really? I would know nothing about days like that), and the boys jumped, squealed and ran around the living room until they were eventually safely secured under all their pillows and blankets.  I dragged my warm, lifeless body to our bedroom.  I managed to get my jammies on but that was it.  As I came out of our bathroom, I saw Mr. Level-Headed kneeling in prayer. I don't know if you have ever walked in on someone as they are praying, but it is a humbling experience. I remember walking in on a co-worker once while we were away on a work trip, and the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. I had not prayed in years, and seeing this woman, who I barely knew, kneeling by her bed, unconcerned that I may see her, touched me.  In fact, it touched me so much, that when I returned home from our trip, I began to pray again, and it was those prayers that started me on my journey to becoming a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. There is power in prayer! But, that is a whole other blog post, one that I am not ready to share just yet, but if you are interested, message me, and we can talk.

Anyhoo . . .

Seeing my husband kneeling in prayer, humbled me. Being sick, all I had thought for the past two days was how this illness had inconvenienced me and how it had been really tough on me.  I had not, up to this point, thought about how it impacted my already very busy husband, who unlike me, had not even complained once.  So, I turned myself around and headed back into the bathroom, where I knelt down beside the bathtub and prayed.  And that's all it took for me to be able to put a positive spin on this most miserable day. Sure, our school week has been pathetic, we have not eaten a home cooked meal in two days, and I am pretty sure everyone is wearing their last pair of undies, but:

• After playing four hours of Mindcraft, the boys were finally able to find a precious stone they have been looking for.  Mission accomplished!
• I have been complaining that I needed to clean out my freezer for the past three months and now it is finally done.  Yay!
• Betty finally kicked Don's cheating butt out of the house. (yet another Mad Men reference) You go girl!
• We finally have dishwasher detergent once again!!!!!  What was I ever thinking!

Mr. Man woke up "not feeling well", but miraculously, as soon as school was cancelled and a few video games were played, he felt better . . . tee hee!

Picture this along side a counter filled with Rubbermaid containers . . . eeeek! No wonder I caved.  

Mr. Level-Headed's idea.  We put bowls of snow in the fridge to help keep the few things left in our fridge cool.

Look at how clean my freezer is!

All in all, I really had nothing to complain about, and the best part is that today is looking even brighter: my fever has broke and the repairman is coming.  

Hallelujah!

  

Tender Mercies

Being a mom is hard.

Some days it is really hard.

Days when the sacrifice seems more than you can bear.

There are times you don't sleep, times when you worry more than you smile, and times when you cry more than you laugh. 

But, thankfully, there are times like last night . . .

moments of clarity that come to interrupt your weariness, to awaken you to the blessings before you, and to remind you of the privilege it is to be someone's mother.

You are sitting on a cold, metal bleacher.  In your hurry to get out the door on time and to ensure everyone has what they need for the evening, you forgot your own coat and forgot you are wearing flip flops rather than sensible Maritime attire of socks and sneakers.  Thankfully, the sun peeks outs and, as it is setting behind you, you can feel it's warmth against your back.  The cold no longer bothers you, though.  You are enthralled in watching how happy your baby girl is trying out for her new soccer team.  Your heart swells to see her perform so well and to see how talented she has become with all the hard work, sacrifice and dedication she has put into her game.  As you stare at her in awe and wonder what on earth you could have ever done to deserve such an amazing daughter, you hear your two boys squeal in laughter as they run past you in an intense game of hide-and-seek tag.  Your attention turns to them.  You marvel at how quick they are to turn everything into a game and how easily they can draw other kids into their games, and it brings a smile to your face.  Suddenly, you are no longer tired.  Your concerns and your frustrations have washed away, and you think to yourself:

life may not be perfect, but it is good. It is, oh, so very good!