We've been doing a lot of moment-seizing lately, though. And watermelon eating, and strawberry picking. They've been good moments to seize. Obvious ones. The ones that are easy to seize because you have a balmy day in front of you, all the socks are folded, and dinner is in the crock pot.
* * * * *Adjusting to a third baby was not the easiest thing that ever happened to me. Basically I felt like all the wheels fell off the wagon. Aside from brushing my teeth, I completely forgot how to function in any capacity. I was numb to basic everyday habits other than insane amounts of vacuuming. I rarely tweezed my eyebrows. I usually blame Lumberjack when that happens because I'm not looking that frequently in a mirror. I need someone to tell me when my eyebrows are taking over my face. Eyebrow coup is the worst. He lets me down
What am I talking about, anyway? I've totally lost track. I've got too many tabs open in my brain. Okay, so back on track. Hard adjustment after Half-Pint. Right. Then I had this one day where I baked too much and loved too little. Really. I literally baked nine loaves of bread and two dozen muffins - all starting out as whole grains that went through the grain mill - and I was in such an angry state by the end of the day. I accomplished twice as much on my to-do list as I'd hoped and yet by bedtime I just was in a foul mood - angry, impatient, and intolerant with my girls. I realized, in that moment, what had made my adjustment-to-three hard. It wasn't the housework and meals. They didn't skip a beat. If the continual vacuum stripes on my carpet were testimony, you wouldn't have known I'd even had a baby. But it was how I was viewing my children.
By way of words from a friend, I realized I was viewing my girl cubs as tasks and projects to be managed instead of hearts to be nurtured. Logistics, on the whole, were a quick adjustment. This is what you do with another baby. The end. You can't grow a third hand so you just make do with what you've got and still get everywhere on time. But heart matters are never about the logistics, or third hands.
* * * * *
So: cosmic explosion. You should know that typically, laundry is my best chore. I'm awesome at it. My middle name is Clean-Folded-and-Put-Away. But yesterday? This is what my laundry room looked like:
And secondly, if my kitchen is cluttered, my mind is cluttered. Period. So guess what was happening between my ears because of this madness:
And the table looked like this. I'm hoping that was lunch (and breakfast) from yesterday, and not a week ago:
Lastly. I don't know who took all of my kids' toys, crammed them in a leaf blower, and deposited it evenly all over the floor of their bedroom, but if you're reading this and responsible for this mayhem, you're on my blacklist:
While I absolutely love to clean as much as the next Disney Princess, and that's no joke, even unexpected cosmic explosions can fry my nerves. Just as my blood pressure was rising to a boiling 100/65 (believe it or not, I have surprisingly low blood pressure. It's a wonder I'm even alive, really.) and I was calculating my plan of attack, Freckles walked up to me and said, "Mom? Can we read books?"
Sigh. No. I don't want to read books. I want to put the house on the market and move somewhere else that's already clean. That's what I want to do right now.
I want to tell you what I did. Not because I'm proud of it. But because hopefully, if I write it down, I'll remember to do it more frequently. My dad would say I chose the Important over the Urgent. Lots of important stuff gets back-burnered a lot because the urgent stuff is always swooping in and shoving it aside. But - somehow - a heart to nurture won against project managing. So we read.
And, of course, she picked a book with five zillion words. So we read, and we read, and we read.
Then Lumberjack packed her and Whirligig up for some errands. Half-Pint was asleep, and in some miracle from the heavens Scout fell asleep unexpectedly, too, and in the oddest of positions:
And then, in a few quiet jet-propelled moments, I picked some wildflowers in our backyard -
and did a little tidying up. Because all of my Importants were asleep, and the Urgents somehow magically become "Hey-let's-do-this-because-we-have-nothing-better-to-do" when they're not competing for attention.
|yes, the floor is still torn up. who even cares anymore.|
|sunglasses, a cowgirl hat, and a football. yep, that's about right.|
Then more than half of my Gigantic Family came over for supper and I gave a swing at mimicking one dish I like at a restaurant in Cincinnati and the reviews from aforementioned Gigantic Family were wild.
And I sat there thinking how thankful I was for my dad who is heading out of town tomorrow and, no doubt, has eight-hundred Urgent things to do before he leaves...but kept company with the Important instead. It's a good habit. Hopefully one of these days I'll be as good as he is at keeping it.
And then we seized cookies. Lots of them. See? I told you it'd come full circle. Sorry, no picture of the cookies. I ate them before I thought to take a picture.