(This is a revised note to a friend...Everyday doesn't hold these same challenges, but each day seems to be as full)
September 21, 2009
**A-, Dare I go in????
When you asked if I am still treading water, I had to stop
and think. …. I’m so busy treading it’s hard to think of life in any other way,
but since you asked, I stopped and thought. What I saw is a bit comical –
I thought back to Monday.
I felt lousy all day fighting a respiratory crud. Usually my thoughts were, “How can I get out
of this… 7 a.m. devotions with the family, getting a non-reading Konos student
caught up with the week’s assignments, making a doctor appointment for a child
who has been complaining of pain for two weeks, taking seriously a loudly
complaining high school student who would rather do anything but study …” But
each time the subject was considered, “Press on” was the answer.
By 3:30 p.m. I was on my way home from the pediatrician
visualizing the afternoon nap that may bring relief to my weary body and
burning chest. Upon reaching home I realized I had no house key (the teens had
dutifully locked up on their way to Spanish). We tried to access any door to no
avail. Back into the car and back to
C’s office to get the key to the house.
In the downpour C ran to the car and threw in a key. Back home to witness the joy of children
playing in the rain. And back home to discover the key was to our camp home and
not to this home. Back to C’s office
– all the while remembering our family devotions. We have been studying Our 24 Family Ways
by the Clarksons. Way #17: I choose to be joyful even when I feel like complaining.
“Lord does this count?” “Of course, Press On!”
Upon arriving home I find the three year old, seven year old
and nine year old are shivering, drenched and happy. AND
the key does open our front door. The
children bound off to get changed and warm while I figure out a plan. There is so
much to do. Our dishwasher broke so the dishes are piled, and what is in the
dishwasher is ½ washed. Much of the
afternoon school work has been left undone due to the MD visit, and the kids
need to be encouraged towards afternoon jobs.
Turning my back to the house, I tell L to bring her school work
upstairs, and we’ll do a marathon reading in bed. Armed with throat lozenges, we begin. Somehow we finished at the time C got
home wondering about dinner. I really
did have a plan which he put into action as I fell into a deep sleep.
It was dark when I woke up. The alarm clock read 7:00
p.m. Oh
No! I haven’t finished school with M and I knew C was due at a BSA
meeting just then. I made my way down
the dark staircase to the sounds of K and A enjoying one another and
relative household calmness. Upon
reaching the landing I discovered tactilely that our thunderstorm terrorized
neurotic black lab had emptied her stomach in the entry. “Oh No! Baxter threw
up,” I cried as I flipped on the lights.
“I know. I told M to clean it
up,” came the reply. Wide eyed M
responded, “I think I’m too young.” He
sympathized with me as I peeled off my soaked sock and threw it in the laundry
since he had stepped in it BAREFOOT! (Can’t you just picture his big eyes as he
said that?). This, of course, in the eyes of the others, had given him the
right and honor of cleaning it up. Taking
the dust pan in hand I urged M to follow so I could show him how to clean
it up if ever he had the chance again.
He replied perplexed, “I really did think I was too young.”
Now that I was fully awake, M and I sat down to finish
the remainder of his homework. He set out to master his time drill while I
wondered where his God’s World paper had “gone.” Hmmm...
Maybe on the fireplace? As I walked
over there I once again discovered a present from Baxter. For the past few days
she has been terrified due to the illusive “someone” who decreased the range of
her shock collar so small she is afraid to go outside to urinate. So I guess the dining room floor seemed the safe
spot. As I discovered this, D was
in the kitchen sweeping up a shattered glass that was precariously perched on
the drying rack in the mound of hand washed dishes. The next venture for my poor foot was embedding
a ½ inch shard of glass while I tried to get a paper towel to clean the Baxter
mess. After a scream and popping out the
shard, for some reason, I just wanted to clean up the wet spot. D was yelling at me, “Mom, you’re
getting blood all over the place!” I was
on a mission though and not able to prioritize, so the floor was cleaned, my
foot bandaged and M’s homework finished – in that order.
By 10 p.m. all were in bed except for the high school Konos
student who was handing me her paper, for the first time, to be corrected. [I thought I said all papers were to be given
to me on Friday!] C had arrived at that time from a three hour scout
master’s meeting which involved scout masters in need of talking. I said to him with the slightest bit of
tears, “I’ve had a bad night…” Not believing much could be worse than what he
had just endured, he responded, “Oh? Why?”
I proceeded to tell him of the three things my foot had found while kind
of wavering between laughing and crying.
He gave me the sympathy that my evening deserved and told me practically,
“That is why I wear shoes.” E looked on with
paper in hand. C’s thoughts of
heading to bed were quickly diverted to editing. I pulled out Institute for Excellence in
Writing’s adjective and strong verb lists, and Dad and student took it from
there. I headed to bed with thoughts of,
“Can I get up at 6:30 a.m. to make pancakes for a boy turning 12?” and other
questions as to how to get it all done the next day….
As I have been writing, A- has awaken with a croupy cough
making her way to my room. As I hold her
I notice her birthday sparkley sliver nail polish adorning her left eyebrow and
striping her right leg. She snuggled
into me with a complete look of peace and closed her eyes. I’m sure her relatively new sheets are going
to testify to her bedtime activity. This
is a job for yet another day.
So…am I still treading?
Yes I am, but it OK as I, like Anna, have a place to sit and close my
eyes in perfect peace, even with the mess of the day obvious all over me. The Lord is using all of this to accomplish
His purpose as I press on doing whatever He gives my hands to do.
Thank you for asking – and reading if you’ve made it this
far.
Press On! (or should I say Tread?)
