Oh, how I would love me an ordinary day here or there. It seems like they are far and few between anymore. I know I have to establish a “new ordinary” in my head-a way to accept/come to terms and even love the fact that my daily life will almost always be somewhat unpredictable with all the variables that six children bring to it. I am finding my way, but not very successful. So often I found myself working toward deadlines, or rushing through ___ to get to ____. And meanwhile like sand through the hour glass….
(Isaac home=laundry basket on dining room table.)
My wonderful father picked Isaac up bright and early from his campus and then dropped him off at the bus station (after filling his stomach with a much appreciated breakfast). I picked him up a few hours later and he is home and boy is it easy when we don’t have to make the drive. I know the kids are excited to see him tonight and he is very excited for exams to be over.
Speaking of exams, Abbey’s last ones are today and I am sure glad those are over. Isn’t it funny how you can’t really “win” as parents when it comes to exam weeks? I’m not sure who is worse, and I’ve had both at times-the kid who treats exams week like any other week, which makes you nervous and a little naggy, and sometimes downright frustrated and panicked, “Should you really be doing that, don’t you have exams to study for?” Or the kid who is so worried about them that she (sorry Abbey I just gave you away) takes out all her tension and stress and misery on everyone around her, herself most of all.
I was the first type of exam kid, I’m sure, so it’s just now, as the emotional sounding board/investor in education, that I am experiencing the elation of having the week behind me, excited for the worry/tension/stress/naggyness to be gone from my heart.
I made this peanut butter fudge the other day-so easy and so good. I just tried that one piece. Oh, no I didn’t. Maybe a row.
After a massive wrapping session, I reread this chapter just to remember that once upon a time, things were simpler. But then I got to thinking about it, and no they weren’t. Maybe less gifts to wrap, but I wasn’t baking my own bread, and making my own fires, and rationing sugar so I couldn’t make fudge when I had terrible cravings. I wasn’t worried about whether my husband would make it through the woods while a screaming black panther was chasing him, or scaring bears away from our milking cow during snow storms.
Things might have been simpler and some (me) could argue better for human nature all together, but they weren’t easier. I think we traded panthers and bear and sugar rationing for a whole other set of issues, but that’s another post for a day when I’ve had more sleep than I’ve been getting lately.
A few years ago for Christmas I bought myself the complete set of hard-covered Little Houses and I still love them so much. So many sweet lessons and reminders.