Thursday, February 4, 2010

It Was NOT Pretty

My Wednesday was soooo not pretty. In fact, it was downright ugly. Most of the day. Well, at least until bedtime. Then it got blissfully peaceful. Quiet. And oh, so pretty again.

The day actually started out fairly nicely. It had all the marks of a potentially pretty day. It got ugly fast.

The middle kids had a 2-hour snow cover delay. So we started the day in my favorite way - sleeping PAST 7 a.m.

(Somehow, any thing before 7 a.m. feels
so ridiculously early to my body clock.)

I got a shower BEFORE Li'l Empress woke up and started bellowing, I mean calling, for me.

(Seriously, she calls my name in, like,
12 different voices and

12 different volumes until
she hears my hand on the doorknob.

Then she's all, like,
"Hi, Mommy! Beep wew?")

Somehow, it all fell apart from there. One son logged in to school and began a lengthy quiz before finishing his morning routine. Before looking around at the snow and pitching in to clear a path for the middles. One son decided to clear some paths, only in ridiculous patterns and zig-zags that would make a hamster dizzy. One son forgot that we own several working clocks, strategically planted all over the house. AND that he has hair on top of his head: he attempted to leave the house sportin' a lovely bed-head nest of blond locks. One daughter spent the whole morning following the biggun's around, repeating everything 100x and yelling "TOP!" whenever one of them would speak to her. Or look at her. Or breathe. One daughter decided that wearing her favorite jeans 3 times in one week wasn't enough. That "one more time oughtta do it!" Yeah, it did it. To my sanity and my tolerance for repetitive denim-wearing. It was not pretty.

And that's all before the middle buggers even left on the bus. Before Li'l Empress, the big boys and I even left the house for a long-overdue jaunt to the local library. I gritted my teeth and directed the remaining three to get in the van. At which point, I had a captive audience. Lucky, lucky them. It was not pretty.

But I felt better and that's all that matters.
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

With their "reset" buttons re-set, we entered the quiet peaceful library. A poor sweet mom of three REALLY! EXCITED! EXUBERANT! ACTIVE! boys was trying to corral her little ones, check out books, carry on an intelligent (?) conversation, and get back out to the cafe for a little caffeine therapy. Her REALLY! EXCITED! EXUBERANT! ACTIVE! boys were not cooperating with her. At all.

At this point, my heart really went out to her. She looked tired. And in the face of our slightly grumpy and in-tolerant librarian-type lady, she looked just a little embarrassed. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her that it wouldn't last forever and that her boys would someday grow up to be models of godliness and acceptable social behavior. That they would some day sweetly offer to carry the heavy laden burden of picture books for her. That they would some day be able to stand near each other without cries of cooties or exclamations about private body functions.

But I couldn't.

Because at the very same moment that compassion and empathy were welling up in my heart for this obviously stressed mommy . . .

(Now, please remember that at this point,
I felt so much better after my lecture

and my diatribe ON THE PERILS OF


. . . Li'l Empress was yelling "TOP!" at one son, and "NO!" to some poor innocent library patron who was trying to be sweet and friendly. One son was griping under his breath about the REALLY! EXCITED! EXUBERANT! ACTIVE! boys who were running into and around him. And still another son was shooting muttered, snarky hilarity at his brother in an attempt to get the cheap laugh and make his brother disrupt the relative peace and quiet one has come to expect of a library. It was not pretty.

And until the last one disappeared up the stairs after dinner, skulking quietly away after the EVIL DICTATOR MOMMA banished them all from polite company, it pretty much remained in its ugly state.

Then, as if by magic, the Gang's house became pretty. Peaceful, tidy, quiet. And pretty.

Lamentations 3:22-23
Because of the LORD's great love
we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.


Salzwedel Family said...

Oh how thankful you must have been for quiet after a day like that. Hoping today is better x 100!

Cathy said...

Thank goodness they are new every morning because I usually need them.

Faith, Hope, and Love said...

Oh..isn't it fun? One of these days I am going to count how many times I hear "mom" in a day. I'm not sure I could count that fast. lol

Tomorrow is another day! ;)


ComfyDenim said...

Oh, wow.
That sounds like my trip to the library. Bubbles hides in the far corner and then RUNS!!!! When we come after her.

Thinking I can leave QUIETLY, I try to take her hand and she screams as if I'm trying to STEAL her or bite her or something.

Yeah. As much as I like books. And reading and want to share that joy with my kids - the library is NOT my favorite place to go. EVER!

Your day sounds like my Tuesday. Thank you for sharing it with me. :-)

heidi @ ggip said...

Usually if you can get a shower in the morning, it is bound to be a good day. This post shows that not always to be true!