Yard Work



The sun shone and hid, the rain poured and ceased and poured again, but the work went on.


This guy has been working, literally, around the clock in life.  He picked up a second contract for work, and is trying to put in 40 hours/week at both jobs.  In addition to this, he’s installing our sprinkler system.  To say that he’s being squeezed from many directions is an understatement.  We all are, actually.


Knowing the rain was coming, we worked yesterday to get the pipes laid.  After the older 5 were off to school, I walked outside and saw my little guy playing in the dirt a few yards from his Dad.  The sight transported me back 10 years to when our oldest was 3 years old, following his Dad around while he installed a fence and sandbox in the yard of our first home.  Popping in and out of the house to contribute what little I could while also keeping an eye on the youngest two continued the nostalgia I felt, remembering life with the first three little ones.

It was an intense time, building our family and working like crazy while our little ones ran circles around us.  I don’t remember it being easy.  Quite the opposite.  Thinking of those days, I laughed a little at how simple they were in comparison with life right now.  Here I am today, with three little ones spaced even closer together than the first three, plus 5 older ones as well.  Memories like this make me long for a life without school, extra-curricular activities, and 3-4 hours in the car every day.

Yes, sometimes I miss those days.   Yet here I am.  And so we worked yesterday (my husband much harder than I) through rain, shine, memories, and lots of mud.


We marveled at how sprinkler systems have become simpler and much easier to deal with in the last 10 years.

We smiled at our little guy all covered with dirt.


We all jumped together in surprise at the exploding sound of thunder and smiled at the rain as it soaked us through.


I couldn’t help but think that life is like this.  You have to keep working through both rain and shine.  The key is to keep trudging, even when your feet are heavy with layers of mud caked to them.


And slowly, so very slowly, you make progress.




Soon the rain stops, and you look around.  The world is so beautiful after it rains.  The colors are so saturated .


You take a deep breath of the fresh air, and feel so glad to be alive.  Glad to be outside.  Even glad to be wet and muddy.   Grateful for a brief day to simply live in the moment.

What are you grateful for today?

Hopeful Homemaker

Soccer in Park City



Last Friday night I loaded 7 of the children in the car and we headed to Park City for my 9 year old’s season-opening soccer game.


He played well.   It was a fun game to watch.






I resumed my usual position several yards away from the corner nearest his sideline, taking up post between the game and the playground where 5 of the children were playing.  Like I’ve said before, I’m an edge mom.  I stand in that place where the worlds of organized sport and free play bump up against each other, turning back and forth between the two worlds as I count heads.

Right now it’s three worlds.  The game, the play, and the little one walking in circles around me.  She spent the entire game trying to remove the sweater I insisted she wear (due to her cold) and successfully removing the pair of shoes I dutifully put back on her feet dozens of times (the ground was sopping wet).  My mom called as I stood there, and we had a great chat.




And then it was over.

We packed up and drove home as the sun set behind the west mountains.  I thought as I drove that I’m getting better at this.  A while ago driving 7 children to a game at a remote elementary school I was unfamiliar with on a Friday night in rush hour traffic would have caused me stress.  I worried about adding the AAA level of play to our soccer world this year, but I’m discovering that I enjoy it.  I live in a beautiful state.  The onset of a cold made it difficult to pop my ears, so the pressure in them built as I continued home.  As we drove, two of my children plunged into a cycle of pushing each other’s buttons, resulting in a wailing noise that hit just the right pitch in my already hurting ears, making me wonder if I’d make it home.  And then I started laughing.  It’s just a moment.  It will pass.

And it did.  I really AM getting better at this.

Thank goodness!

Jennifer

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