Steven got in the shower, I tried to bury myself in the blankets for five minutes, but a chunky two-year-old was pulling my hair (gently) and Gage burst into the room with his morning enthusiasm. Kjel wandered in, singing to herself about french toast, and the day began.
I rolled off the bed, pulled on clothes, called out orders ("Gage, grab your lunch from the fridge and put it in your backpack; Kjel, teeth brushed; Will, take off your jammies so I can get you dressed.") And we were off! Scriptures, prayer, bags, keys, shoes. Steve pulled the van into the garage so we wouldn't get wet, and then we were on the road to the school.
Gage didn't have his special Spider Man umbrella today and we looked through the secret compartments of the van to see if our blue umbrella was lurking under the bottled water that's hidden under the kids' seats. It wasn't. :( Poor Gage had to walk through the rain to the big double doors of the school.
We came home and I got ready, fed the kids a snack, tried to put Merit down for a nap, but she wasn't ready. We made bread, tidied up and did breakfast dishes, and our good friend Natalia and her darling baby came over for a visit. We talked and punched down bread dough; Will and Kjel played with play-doh and Merit went down for a nap.
Natalia left, we ate lunch, Will fell asleep in his big boy bed, and I got my studies in and tried to get myself motivated to do yoga, but I felt achy still, all over.
I called Steven to check in, sent a few texts (my sister is due next month to have her baby!) and tried to make my hair manageable. Wrote out my grocery list, vacuumed the downstairs, and fed Merit.
By the time four o'clock rolled around and Gage was home, I was feeling discouraged. What had I accomplished? I couldn't really honestly say. Everyone in my care was fine, but I felt that feeling you get when you've only eaten muffins all day. Full, but not nourished.
Some days, I think, are like that. You can work hard and work well, and give to others and take care of yourself, and fulfill whatever responsibilities are part of your life, but at the end of the day, it's hard to discern what you've done or haven't done.
I really like to cross things off lists. Sometimes if I do something before I've written it down on my list, I'll write it down just to cross it off.
This post really has no profound point, except that I hope that when I'm reading these a few years down the road, and my kids are in high school and I'm trying to balance whatever I'm doing at that point, and I look at my day and wonder, "what did I accomplish?" I'll be kind to myself.
Some days are like that.
Gage had a rough day at school yesterday. He told his substitute teacher that the bat that she'd drawn didn't look like a bat, and she said he hurt her feelings. The whole class (according to Gage) was mad at him for hurting her feelings. We talked about thinking before we speak. Gage was still sad. He cried some bitter tears in the car. I told him that it's okay to have a terrible, horrible, no-good, really bad day.
Even in Australia. :)