A Hop, Skip and a Jump Away: reflections

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.

or in my case, write about . . . tee hee!

Yesterday, as I was preparing my first assignment for familyshare.com (woohoo!), I came across this quote on Pinterest (and yes, being on Pinterest was part of the job). It really hit a chord with me because I had spent the entire day trying to figure out how I could capture all the awesomeness of our day. Nothing special happened. In fact, I wasn't even in the greatest mood and I had to sneak off a couple of times to squeeze a little cry out. Why? Well, let's just chalk it up to being a woman and that, sometimes, I feel life very intensely. I can't say I was sad because there were so many times yesterday my heart brimmed with joy, but maybe that was just it. Sometimes when we are so close to exactly what we have always wanted, we also become acutely aware of just how fragile it all is. And I think this is why I had to cry, to release the fear of losing all of this someday and to have it all become nothing but a fading memory.

Like I said, nothing spectacular happened yesterday, but right now, the ebb and flow of our days are truly magical. They are peaceful, and they feel right.

I woke up and while Mr. Level-Headed was in the shower, I went out and made his and Baby Girl's lunch. Then I threw supper together and dumped it in the Crockpot. (A dear friend of mine shared this secret of success with me years ago, and it makes all the difference in the world. Supper needs to be made in the morning. Trust me!) I kissed them goodbye as they made their way out the door into the cold dark morning. Then I straightened the kitchen up and went back to my room, where I said a prayer, read my scriptures, made my bed and wrote my blog post. This is my favourite time of the day! The day has just begun, the house is quiet, and I am all alone with nothing but my thoughts, my photos, and my laptop.

Then, the boys woke up. They each came in for a snuggle before they headed off to the shower. I finished my post and made our breakfast. Then, as I got my shower, the boys began their morning routine, which includes reading scriptures (They are half way done the Book of Mormon. I am so proud of them!), making their beds, and cleaning up their bathroom. When they were done, they ran to the basement for their half an hour of screen time. This is their favourite time of the day!

When I finally emerged from my room, coiffed and ready, I noticed that Elliot had stacked all of our homeschool books on the table. He is finally getting into the groove of this crazy homeschooling thing, and nothing could make me happier! Then I called the boys up and we started school. The boys worked on their cursive, spelling and grammar, while I made pizza for lunch. The house smelled divine!

After lunch, I taught the boys their math lesson. Avery's lesson was on probability and included playing dice games. He was over the moon excited! Elliot's lesson was on organizing, plotting and interpreting data. Needless to say, he was less than thrilled . . . tee hee! Then they read and practiced piano, while I cleaned up the lunch dishes.

Finally, it was piano time. I dropped them off at their lesson and returned home to start working on my new writing assignment. Then before I knew it, it was time to pick them up again. I brought the boys home and they decided to go out and play in the snow. Just then, my mom called and so I curled up in bed and talked to her for an hour. Now, it was time to pick up Zoe from piano (the bus drops her off).

As soon as Baby Girl entered the house, the craziness picked up. She may not be the wild child of our house, but she is definitely a catalyst for the wildness. Everything seems to get louder and busier the minute she returns.

Initially, I had planned to have an Indian curry chicken dish for supper, but while I was talking to mom, she reminded me that it was pancake Tuesday. So, I put the chicken in the fridge for tomorrow, and tried a new gluten-free pancake recipe (our first recipe was less than successful). It was a hit! As we slurped on our strawberry smoothies and scarfed down our syrup-sloppy pancakes, we laughed and shared stories about our day.

When supper was finished, the boys and I decided to go out and have a snowball war, while Baby Girl studied for her social studies test. The night was perfect! The sun was just setting behind the hill that overlooks our house. The air was crisp, and you could smell the water in the air from the rain showers we had earlier in the day. The snow was wet and easy to clump, perfect snow-ball making snow. The boys and I threw snow at each other, we hid in the forts they made earlier, and we made daring escapes down the hill on our sleds. One of these escapes, involved me sliding backwards down the hill with Scout on my lap . . . eeek! Long story! When I returned to the top and after the boys tried to recreate my epic (their words not mine) slide, we made snowballs and stored them in the forts to ambush Mr. Level-Headed with when he returned home from school.

Eventually our mittens became soaked and our toes became too cold, and so we returned to the house. I finished up the rough draft of my assignment, while the boys ate popcorn and watched some Batman cartoons. As I was cleaning up the kitchen for the gazillionth time that day, I saw Mr. Level-Headed pull into the driveway. Ugh! Of all nights, he came home early.

I greeted him at the door and whined that he had spoiled our plans. He laughed. Baby Girl was finally done studying and came out to tell him all about her day. Then the boys rushed up the stairs, shouting about our snowball war and the forts they had made and all about their Xbox adventures.

This is how we greet Mr. Level-Headed everyday. It must be a little overwhelming, but he never complains. He laughs, he nods, and he assures us that it sounds like we had a great day.

While Mr. Level-Headed unpacked his bags and hung up his work clothes, the boys sat down to paint the clay bowls they made the day before for our study of Ancient China. As soon as they were done, we scooted them off to get their jammies on and to brush their teeth, and we all slipped into our bedtime routine.

Each night we meet in the boys room, where Mr. Level-Headed reads a scripture and explains it, while the boys hang upside down in their beds and Zoe cuddles with Scout on the floor. Mr. Level-Headed always looks up at me, smiles and asks:

Do you think they get it?

Sure.

And I can't help but smile back at him.

Then we all kneel together and say a prayer. I kiss the boys goodnight and Mr. Level-Headed gives them their knuckle-bumps. I say goodnight to Zoe, who then packs up her bags for the next day and continues to tell her dad all about her volleyball or soccer practices. I turn off the lights in the main room and head to bed. As soon as Mr. Level-Headed and I are in bed, I finally ask him how his day was and he always answers in the exact same way:

uneventful.

So, then I go on more about my day. I vent my concerns and my frustrations and elaborate on any grand ideas that I may have conjured up.

Then I turn out the light.

Don't forget my kiss!

Do I ever?

Nope.

I love you, Babe.

I love you, Beautiful.

Goodnight.

And we each roll over and fall asleep.

I know this can't last forever. The ebb and flow of our days will eventually change. The kids will grow up, and we will grow old. Don't get me wrong, though, I am excited for the time when it is just Mr. Level-Headed and I once again, but I really like where we are right now. And so, I take a million pictures each day and I spend my mornings writing down everything no matter how foolish or how insignificant it is because it is all this, with all of them in it, that I fear losing the most.