another day in paradise...

I know that I am not the only mom, that when life is just so crazy busy, the only quiet time I get is when I shut myself in the loo. This quiet milli-moment is usually interrupted by a knock on the door or a "Mom!" being bellowed from another room on the opposite side of the house. There are times, that I keep the light off and enjoy the escalating voices wondering where I am. I am not complaining. As a matter of fact, I usually (admittedly not always) find humor in the crazy happenings of my days, and often find myself laughing out loud, the kids believing that I have lost my mind (and maybe I have)! Let me explain.

On Tuesday morning I rolled out of bed, made my way to the bathroom, and with a sideways glance in the mirror, could see that something was not quite right with my face. In all honesty, something was seriously wrong. No, I am not talking about the sheet wrinkles that on a daily basis, take a good hour to disappear. I am talking about my entire left eye being puffy and a bit mishapen. I take a good look and realize that I am not lucky enough to claim pink eye, a stye, or even a cold. My eye is swollen because I slept on my left side all night, and with age and water retention, my face just doesn't recover like it used to.

Oh well...I shower, put off putting on my makeup in order to let the puffiness subside, and head downstairs to tackle the day. On my way through the family room, I pass what my husband commonly refers to as the community dresser. *see photo With good intentions, I had decided to wash clothes all day Monday, pile them on the old couch, and sit down Monday night to watch some wholesome quality television, and fold the massive pile of clothes. My good intentions did not materialize, and for the next 3 days, every time I passed the mammoth pile of clothes, I heard Alabama playing in my mind "one day I'm gonna climb that mountain".

The day carried on...I had two sick kiddos, one still in diapers, whose tummy was disagreeable with everything, and who's dirty diapers filled our garage with an aroma that only a person with an iron gut could stomach. By 10 o'clock, I had ran carpool, vacuumed up a bucket o' beads, changed my shirt thanks to a handful of soggy cereal being smashed in a very strategic location, attempted to tape back together school papers that had been set on syrupy leftovers on the counter, and stolen a moment to call the NICU and check on the little one. By 2 o'clock, I had made bead necklaces with preschoolers, served and cleaned up lunch, realized that I still had no makeup on, and was finishing up my 12th cup of coffee while visiting with the caseworker, when my C. decided to tell us what an elephant says, and proceeded to spray us with a mouthful of milk. I am so thankful for a fabulous caseworker, who loves children, and laughed with me as we wiped milk off our faces. By 5 o'clock, I had ran carpool, started dinner, helped with homework, covered a skinned knee with a kiss and a band-aid, and consoled my M. whose bleeding heart was adamant that we needed to take the newborn bird found in a nest in our backyard to the vet. In my quest to be a grounded logical mom, I gently explained that baby birds are supposed to be left in their nest, and well..."if it doesn't survive, then it is just natural selection". For some reason, this didn't seem to help.

By 9 o'clock, with the little boys sound asleep, and the big kiddos' tucked in with prayers said, I decided to drag my weary bones to bed. As I lay in bed, I took a few moments to reflect on the day's events. I realized that the daily marathon is good for the soul. I am not perfect, and believe me when I tell you, I don't always laugh and somedays don't even give a hint of a smile when my days are so chaotic. I do believe that if I stop, take a deep breath, and look at my world with rose-colored lenses, I see all the blessings that surround me. So for tonight, as I get ready to visit dreamland, I look forward to another day in paradise...


Psalm 127:3-5 NLT
Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior’s hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them!