Category: Yearly Goals

The house is a flurry of activity today.  The stimulation of cousins staying at our home seems to have everyone wound up even though they’re gone.  Noise comes from so many directions, from the girls working on a project to the little ones clearing the table, to the teenager broadcasting noise just for the fun of it.  While the children are filling the dishwasher my husband grabs me by the hand and we go sit together in the family room.  Close enough to monitor but far enough that the noise is a little less intense.

Within 30 seconds our six year old has joined us, or rather, jumped on top of us.  He chooses a book and the three of us take turns reading aloud.  Then the four year old walks downstairs with a cd player and plugs it in the nearest outlet.  “What are you listening to?” I ask.  “I’m not telling” comes the reply.  It doesn’t take long  for the sounds of a Scripture Scouts album to be blasting in the room.  Our eight year old picks up a different cd and an argument about what they’re “listening” to ensues.  Then the three year old walks through the room holding a stack of about 25 cds.  Several of us perk up at that and someone tries to rescue them from her before they’re all destroyed, which of course means that she is screaming.  We’re still trying to read a book with our six year old!  The cd battle ends with a change, sending the four year old crying to my lap.  We now have three children sitting on top of us while we read.  All of a sudden our fourteen year old daughter joins the pile.  The fifteen year old lays on the floor right next to the cd player so he can hear it more clearly.  It seems the volume is more than sufficient for him when he starts shooting a cap gun over and over again at least a hundred times.  The almost twelve year old comes out of nowhere and tackles his sister on the couch.  As we become uncomfortable under the pile of bodies I look around the room and we wonder aloud if the neighbors can hear any of this, and if so, what might they be thinking?  It’s so loud, so ridiculous that I begin laughing.  And then I can’t stop.  Bodies everywhere, half of them happy and half of them mad, most of them loud, all of them in motion.  Family life.  An awfully lot of family life going on in one room and on high volume.   Another minute or two and my husband slowly moves bodies to one side or the other as he carefully extricates himself from the pile.  He calls to our oldest and the two of them escape to the basement, leaving me alone with the noisy seven.  Suddenly the three year old has an accident on the couch right next to me and it gets even noisier as she instantly begins sobbing about her clothes and I spring to grab the kitchen towel that happens to be on the family room floor – completely out of place but very fortunately available just then.  Thus begins the trip to the bathroom, the cleaning, the finding of new clothes and the decision that it’s most definitely time to start the bedtime routine.

In the end, all of it is harmless.  The noise dies as quickly as it rose and soon we’re back to the usual hum of ten people under one roof.  Occasionally I feel like I’m just not built for the intensity of this life, but it’s what I chose.  Not that I ever thought to myself, “Hmmm, what could I do to make sure my life is incredibly loud for twenty years?” and then decided that eight children was the ticket.  I chose the children, and realized later how the sum of them all could occasionally feel like twenty.  I know I do a lousy job much of the time, but I can say this:  I get out of bed every morning and do my best.  The Lord might not be able to count on me for much, but I believe he knows that about me.  I will always get up and face it.

My three year old has matured so much in the past two weeks.  (A funny thing to write, I realize, after reporting on her accident.)  I look at her and listen to her talk and wonder… where did my baby go?  In her place is emerging a little girl who is delightful and opinionated and bubbling over with activity.  Her transformation – literally before my eyes – reminds me how fleeting life is, how quickly we are all changing, how soon this breathless stage in my life will be over.  So I try to grasp it, turn it over in my hands, look at it, savor it, memorize it, and while I’ve grabbed one moment another dozen fly right past, or so it feels.

Sometimes that realization grounds me.  Sometimes it panics me.  Tonight I stand closer to the edge of panic as I watch it all.  I am filled with questions.  Am I doing it right?  Are they learning what they need to learn?  How can I add ____ for so-and-so?  What should we do about this child with that problem?  Where will I find the time to do it?  How much homework is in their backpacks that I haven’t checked since before Thanksgiving?  Do we have clean clothes to wear to school tomorrow?  What will I pack in their lunches?  All of these questions should have been answered on Saturday, but it didn’t happen because we still had company and when they drove away on Saturday night I was just too tired to go to the store or start some laundry.

Our Thanksgiving holiday was great.  The meal was delicious and the crowed (forty some of us) was enjoyable.  We had a super time with my brother-in-law and his children staying with us.  We made memories with cousins, held the sweetest four month old all we could, talked and played and built relationships.  My only regret:  no photos.  I remembered to tuck the camera in my bag every time we went somewhere or set it out on the counter, but not once did I have the presence of mind to pick it up and take the picture!  I get swept away in the activity of it all and when I come back up for air it is over and I can’t bring it back.

So the house is a mess and the laundry isn’t done.   We’re jumping back into everyday life a little richer in memories but certainly poorer in rest.  We have another birthday coming this week and work to do in preparation.  I’m still fighting a cold and hoping to beat it soon.   I have long lists of things to do and really hope to make things work out.  And somehow, while it’s all spinning so fast, I need to carve out of every day a bit of time to focus on what really matters, to find joy in the crazy and calm in the storm.  And sleep.  I’m in search of sleep, and quickly.:)

Wish me luck!
Jennifer

I can’t believe another week has come and gone.  I’m going to break with my standard format and share a picture I took this afternoon:


It hadn’t been raining.  They were playing ping pong in the basement and hollered up that we should look at it.  We all ran outside and discovered a faint second rainbow as well.  The bow arched so high above the clouds it nearly took my breath away.  It got brighter, for soon we could see a distinct green color emerging.  We stood outside and talked while we watched, and within minutes it began to fade slowly.  A moment later and the sun was suddenly sending it’s last horizontal rays across the earth before sinking behind the mountains.  The rainbow was gone as quickly as it came, giving way to the sunset.  We went back inside and I thought how happy that moment had been, and how we would have missed it if we had waited only a few moments before acting.

So much of the week was like that.  Little rainbows tucked here and there in cloudy moments, unexpected, fleeting, and then gone.  Some of them I chased like we did tonight; others I assumed would be there when I finished whatever “pressing” thing I had going on.   Of course they weren’t.  But the ones I grabbed were happy and good for my heart.

I thought things would slow down more than they have.  We’re still too busy and I’m trying to fix it.   I was hit with a cold this week which is making it harder to combat the stress of getting ready for out-of-town company during Thanksgiving.  I feel like I’m off my game and really hope I can “come round right” in the next day or two.  I am thankful for small reminders of how good life truly is so I don’t get too far ahead of myself.  I have a lot to do before Thanksgiving, so the task ahead is to savor the rainbows while working harder.

I am grateful for the opportunity to make good decisions, to make mistakes and learn from them, to be a part of a family and become who I’m supposed to be.  There is much to be thankful for!

There is a rhythm that comes with keeping a home.  When the rhythm is just right, and especially when it’s not in fast forward, there is a peace in it that I’ve never felt in any other setting.    It’s a peace that lends beauty to mundane tasks and turns the rowdy play of children into music.  It expands until the heart is full and with all your soul you hope it never changes.    I experienced that rhythm tonight.

It was brief but beautiful.  I treasured every minute of it.

On the whole, my week was a little on the crazy side.  Several days felt like a series of continuous detours.  Someone forgot their lunch, someone got hit in the face and ended up with a bloody nose that now decorated all of their clothing and could I please bring a change of clothes to school, someone doesn’t feel well at school and needs to go home, the bank made a mistake with our account, on and on it went.   When it started snowing on Friday I prayed silently, “Please let this weather get bad enough that soccer practice is cancelled!”  It did.  So we had one lovely day of no errands, no practices, no events.  YES.

I didn’t choose joy as consistently this week.  Instead I caved in more often to stress.  I was away from home more often and had responsibilities that required extra time and focus.  It wasn’t the kind of week I wanted, but I managed to get a lot done ( mostly because I had deadlines) and enjoyed a few extras as well.  It seems when we have weeks like this it’s harder for me to stay on top of all the homework.  Not that the math homework doesn’t get done or we don’t read books, but that I forget to initial the reading logs and things like that.  Sometimes I feel like those little things all get together so they can turn into a mountain that stares down at me with a big flashing sign to broadcast my failures.  The feeling brings a portion of guilt, and also a flash of irritation and anger.  Aren’t we supposed to be reading for the joy of it, not so we can check it off a list?  But I usually feel that way when I’m stretched too thin.  Which I was.

So I had a few occasions to stand apart from myself, observe what was going on, and ask, “Have I learned anything this year about joy?”  The answer is a resounding YES!  I’ve learned so many little things about feeling happy, like putting a smile on my face, singing a song out loud, doing the thing I’m dreading, that when I do feel stressed I have a bunch of tools in my pocket to fight back with.  When I’m feeling down about things I can’t control, I am quicker to remind myself that I can’t control it and focus instead on something I am able influence.  I know that a huge part of feeling joy is simply a matter of doing what needs to be done and putting a smile on my face.  I have learned so much.

So we got the house clean.  I had a dry pack canning activity in my kitchen.  My brother and his family were in town and we got to see them!  We had guests for dinner and it went great.  I heard Mindy Gledhill sing in a cozy mini-concert.  I got on the phone for a little book group chat with all the women in my family.  I went to another book club meeting and had a great time.  We made a big push in the sewing room and two teenaged girls finished quilt tops to display at a meeting tonight.  (They turned out so great!  I can’t wait to share them tomorrow!)  The kids went on a hot chocolate binge as the temperatures plummeted and the snow whirled outside our windows.  We turned on the fireplace and enjoyed its warmth.  I even snuggled with my three year old on the couch in front of the fire and we both fell asleep.  It was a great week.  Crazy enough to make me feel like lots of important details were slipping through my fingers, but I suppose without it I might not have enjoyed tonight’s perfect rhythm so much.

The coming week is our last full week before Thanksgiving and then, in the blink of an eye, the holiday season will be in full swing.  I have so much I want to do and I’m going to do my best to get it done, but I hope I’ll have the wisdom to slow down when it’s time for that so I can savor the wonder of Christmas.  Only seven more weeks in 2012.  What a thought!

Have a great week!
Jennifer