Question of the Day

The day begins with an in-crib diaper blowout. I should say my day begins that way, for my hardworking, hardloving husband has been up for a 1/2 hour already, manning the breakfast routine while I try to sleep off yet another late night. He manages the worst of the blowout, getting her cleaned off and into the bath. I simply strip the sheets and put them and the clothes in a pile by the washer to be dealt with later.

And we're off. The carpool friend comes to pick up the oldest. The preschoolers start arriving. A friend whisks Daddy/husband off to the airport to begin his journey to Chicago. Preschoolers play and create and eat and create some more. Preschoolers depart. Big guy gets home. We eat lunch and play outside. I attack what I thought were some spots of poison ivy around the perimeter of the yard. Spots turn out to be patches, farms, really, and what I thought was a small job mushrooms into an all-out chore. Meanwhile, the happy-outdoor-players begin to squabble. It's rest time. Cue the routine: one down (gather paci and blankie, diaper change, one story), the next down (gather necessary craft materials and two songs), "special time" with one. He would like to make a popsicle-stick house for a grandparent whom he'll next see in May. What? So many problems with this plan, but I go with it, determined to be encouraging while feeling like a good cry is in order. Short break, special time with the other, release the first. First has eyes that are red and itchy. Can't stop itching. Pretty sure it's allergies, not pink eye, but evaluating. Search house for any sort of soothing eye drops. None to be found. Wake sleeping toddler and put all three in car to drive to pharmacy. Procure eye drops. Come home, administer eye drops. Almost time to make dinner, but we still haven't done lessons, and older two would like some help climbing a tree in the front yard. Here's the deal: we climb the tree after the lessons. So we do, both. Now it's time to eat dinner, but first it must be made. Squabble over who sits where at the table. Eat. Try to be attentive to the idea of some sort of popsicle-stick creation idea involving smoke coming out of a chimney. Can we, Mom? Help neighbor with seventh grade math which is obnoxiously hard. Water gardens and clean up outdoor toys. Evening meds. Upstairs: teeth, pajamas, pick up room. Three stories, Bible story, group prayer. Individual tuck-in routines. One late-breaking time-out. One trip back upstairs for injury. One child still currently awake and playing.

8:25. That dirty laundry? Still by the washer. Dinner dishes? On the counter. Toys? Everywhere. List of things that really need to be done tonight? Long and daunting. Exhausted? Yes. Heart? Discouraged.

Why? Because all I did was tread water today, do the next thing, and not even cheerfully. All of us have agendas around here: get the laundry done, make a popsicle-stick house, climb a tree, teach a child to read, test the limits, kill the poison ivy, the list of what someone or other wants to do goes on. Our agendas cannot be achieved simultaneously or completely, none of them, and at the end of the day, I feel like we just raced around playing whack-a-mole. I like whack-a-mole, I do, but at least when you play that game, you get some tickets you can redeem for something. At the end of my day, I get nothing but a strewn house and a sad soul. I either need to conquer the chaos or make peace with it.

Meanwhile, adding to the mental melee, like a cheesy chorus of back-up singers, the voices chant their various choruses: Eat better. Eat more locally, more organically. Save more money. Exercise more. Get up earlier. Reach out. Be a good friend, a good neighbor. Write a note. Cook a meal. Clean out that garage, already. Attend to the stagnant long-term to-do list. Mother's Day is coming- what for the grandmas? Pray for that person/continent/issue. Doesn't the cat need to get to the vet soon?

Some days, those back-up singers are sure glad we don't allow violent toys in our house, that's all I'm saying.

Count my blessings. I know, I know. Trust Jesus. I'm trying. Let go of the small things. Ditto. Put people first. See previous post. These days will go so quickly. I hear ya. And I'm drowning nonetheless.

Lord, have mercy on my small household and on my heart. Is there another way?