I've missed ya!
Truly. I miss the writing. I miss the outlet. The chronicle. The encouragement that you give when I pour out my chaos all over the place.
A moment of quiet has descended. Little Man is watching Curious George. Which my big kids determined last week MAY not be the best idea. He seems to be following in those curious, ornery, but VERY cute footsteps. (sigh)
The "at home" girls are sleeping in. Which considering all of the partying that's been going on is not only understandable, but WELL appreciated.
And it's Monday.
Although the list is long and the time short. . . I'm grateful that I can be overwhelmed and yet still sleep "the sleep of the exhausted" (to quote my sister-in-law's mother, whom I love). A good night's sleep sure does change one's perspective! And we've had two in a row, here!
I find myself saying rather frequently these days (mostly to the Coach), "Whew. What a day." To which he has developed the habit of saying, "Day? How about week? How about month? How about year?"
It's been busy here. And OH the good stories I've failed to chronicle. But since it's Monday and I have just a minute. . .
Last Wednesday my mom came over in the afternoon, after the Coach was home but before dinnertime, to walk our 4 miles here in the neighborhood with me (we are less than one week from the 1/2 marathon, by the way!). Since the weather has been nice, we've been walking outside instead of on the treadmill. Lovely!
So I got back from huffing and puffing up and down the Arrowhead Hills . . . we had a good time, too. . . to walk in the garage and find. . . I'm not sure what? Some of the "middles" (that would be not the big kids but not the youngest, either) with a bucket and rags wiping the garage floor.
Well. It seems that while I was out walking, the Coach and Son (#3) were mowing (Son #1 was working at his uncle's), and FIVE other kids were left to watch Little Man (the Coach was right here in the back yard). Apparently it wasn't enough. He is magnetically drawn to the fridge in our garage. It hold gallons of milk, water bottles, cartons of eggs, butter, etc. In the past he's taken all of the water bottles out and dumped them in the front flower bed. He's dropped eggs on the garage floor. You get the idea. And it even has a bungee cord twisted around the handles and attached to the cabinet next to it. He's Houdini, I tell you.
This time? It was the gallon of maple syrup. You know the one? From Sam's? Poured out on the garage floor. Tracked all over the garage "rug" where the kids take their shoes off and put them in the cubbies. And yes. Yes it WAS tracked through the laundry room and into the kitchen.
When I got home, Daughter (#2) was occupying Little Man elsewhere (thank heavens) and the Coach had left to pick up Son (#1) and Son (#3) was still mowing and four middles were wiping the garage floor with rags dipped in a big bucket of hot water.
Further inspection of the kitchen revealed that Little Man (he's really a genius, you know), had taken the swiffer mop off the hook in the garage and attempted to "clean up" the puddle (or pond, or lake) of syrup himself. Which would have been an intelligent thing for a three year old to do. Except that Daughter (#2) hadn't realized this and had brought the same mop into the house to clean up the kitchen. Are you getting the idea?
Garage floor? Not too bad, actually, after the kid's work to clean it up. Garage rug? Hopeless. Kitchen floor? Depressing.
I think we mopped it a hundred times. Mopped may not be the right term. Picture hands and knees and rags and hot water. Over and over.
The rug? It had to be hung out on the back fence, hosed off, left out to dry and then brought back into the garage days later to be steam cleaned with my handy dandy carpet cleaner.
Seems like I sigh a lot these days. Three year old boys will do that to you.
So about four days later we finally had everything cleaned and back in order.
And Little Man? We decided in spite of it all to keep him.
So last week at the troops? Shall forever be known as. . .
"The Syrup Incident of 2010"
And now? The girls are awake, George is over (see what I mean? He probably shouldn't be watching this every morning) and the day is calling.
May the Lord give you His grace to face today. . . whether that means dealing with 3 year olds or things MUCH more difficult (because I am completely aware that there are MUCH more difficult things).