The Gift of Today

Oh man. Some days are just strange. Like today for instance. I had all the ingredients for a good day -- 3 healthy children, full health myself, productivety, good marriage, tons of laundry (not that tons of laundry is actually a "good" thing but it does indicate that we are a healthy, bustling family that is alive and well), a borrowed afternoon housemaid, warm house, etc. misc. etc. -- but it was just not one of those top-of-the-list good days.

It probably had something to do with yesterday. Yesterday was supposed to be the best day of the year (so far) or at least the most relaxing or the most get-in-touch-with-yourself I've had in a long time days or basically, the most kid-less day I've had since having kids 3 years ago. But I wrecked it by (get this) spoiling the opportunity to be productive by spending my energies on a dress pattern. A stupid, no good, dress pattern. I have about decided to make a vow before a great congregation to never again touch a sewing machine, piece of fabric or a dress pattern again. In my life. Ever. Again. I will file for restraining order that will forever hereafter forbid me from entering a fabric store again. In my life. Ever. Again.

I really should do that because this morbid depression has wrecked one entire day of my life. All because of a dress pattern, two precious days of my life were wrecked. FOR NO GOOD REASON.

So. That day was shot and it should've been a good day. But actually, in truth, it really was a good day. I could sit in quiet and just think. I could sew without interuption. I could contemplate my surroundings. I could listen to preaching. And I could find out that yet another dress pattern in my pattern bin does not work. So, that's good. Never make the same mistake twice on a pattern when you spend all day working on it.

Then today came. Yes, today. Today was just "one of those days." I did not look forward to today before it even started. I guess that set the tone. I should know better than to do that but really, I guess I forgot. Dumb reason, I know. My attitude wore off on the kids and that is not good. Everything was a downhill battle. Eat your food (and it wasn't). Go to bed (and they cried). Clean your room (and she bit him). Don't go outside (and the dog came in and peed on the floor.) Play with your toys (and he got busy playing with a knife). Etc. Stuff like that all day long wore me out.

Now it's evening. The kids are tucked in bed ALL THREE SLEEPING and looking the perfect pictures of innocence. I have my computer in my lap for the first time in a long time (it should feel honored that I didn't just throw it out in the snow bank) and I'm relaxing in a nice, big, soft recliner. I'm uncomfortable though and can't sit still. Toby would be going nuts if he was next to me right now..."Can't you just sit still?" He would say lovingly. And I would say, "No, I can't. I tried." And he would say, "Geeez, just hold still for 2 minutes." And I would say, "I can't; I must have that Restless Leg Syndrom." And he would say, "Just don't move your legs then." And I would say, "It's impossible; I can't get comfortable." And he would say, "You're worse than a little kid." And I would say, "I know." And he would say something I'm sure because he always says something and I would probably say something then since I always say something and we would be having this conversation not getting anywhere but feeling content that we were making important and valid points to one another.

But instead, I sit out here alone. With my unfaithful computer. Tossing and turning in this chair. Reclining and sitting up. Kicking my feet. Holding my feet still. My lap is too hot from this computer. My feet are too hot (they always get hot when I sit in this chair for some reason) My heel is cracked and throbbing. My toe itches (I hate that). My eyes are tired.

And tomorrow is another new day. Another day to be a mom. To be a wife. To run a house. To set the tone. To remember the better part.

To only remember that the better part is often in the most hidden places. The places that I overlook when a pile of dishes threatens an avalanche. The places that I can't see beyond that mountain of laundry. The places that hide underneath those mischevious eyes. The places that disappear when I lose patience. Yet I can easily find those special places when I remember the Source. And that I am a mom yes, but I am first His child.

Threatening The Blogosphere Near You: Her Praising Works

After having weeks of surging energy, boundless creativity and unimaginable joy, I woke up to a crashed day. I haven't felt so behind and run down in a long time. I keep grasping for the little energy and wakefulness left around here somewhere but there's nothing within my reach.

I should've known this honeymoon phase of my pregnancy wouldn't last forever but still, I assumed it would last longer than just 3 weeks. Oh well. There's always tomorrow. Maybe today was just a foretaste of the glorious 3rd trimester.

This morning started normal. Landon came into bed and we snuggled for a little while and then he got up and got some paper and little tiny folding scissors and brought them back to bed with me. He started cutting various snips of paper as he maneuvered his thumb and finger in the little scissor handle.

I wasn't too worried about the mess: what's a little paper?

Then, another idea must've hit his little brain because he disappeared and then returned with a comb and preceded to want to comb my hair. He carefully sauntered up to the bed and told me he needed my hair.

I willingly surrendered my locks of hair, basking in the prospect of someone playing with my hair. I LOVE that feeling and I rarely get to experience it.

I happened to glance at him as I tossed my hair over and I noticed the very tips of those tiny thread scissors peering secretly out of his chubby little hand.

"I'm going to do hair cutting, Mom," he said, as if it was a productive art project.

Needless to say, I confiscated the scissors and made sure he had no other means of hair cutlery available as he stood above my head and my vulnerable tresses of hair.

After that, the day held one big threat after another. None were after my hair, thankfully, but it still evolved into a rather discouraging and worthless day. Everything I set out to do, only resulted in making a huge extra task to get done. Eventually, I was afraid to get anything done. By lunch time, I was ready to pull my hair out but thought better of it when I remembered how close I had come to losing it all earlier today.

I thought to myself as I waded through piles of newspaper, clean dishes and dirty dishes, an unorganized kitchen and a little boy getting potty trained, that I think it would be wise for me to just quit trying to get anything done. The more I get done, the more I have to do. I felt like I was on a treadmill and not gaining miles but still running as fast as I could. I know it's bad to "give up" but the reason I wanted to give up was so that at least I could say I did something today.

Finally, I got my morning coffee at around 4:30 this afternoon and sat down and surfed through my usual homemaking blogs. As should be expected, one site after another held all the lofty things those virtuous wives had accomplished in just short amounts of time. Not just your everyday tasks either -- serious organization, craft projects, sewing items, fancy meals rich with nutrition, major cleaning and redecorating, etc.

And here I felt blessed to get my dishwasher loaded today and could still hear the glories ringing from those dirty dishes as they sang songs of praise to me for finishing my work with them. How I longed to hear more works praising me but that is just not my lot in life today.

I thought to myself as I searched their sites and coveted over their pictures of befores and afters, how come I always get stuck with just before pictures? By the time I could take after pictures, there's hardly any way you could tell I accomplished anything worth taking a picture of. By then, the room is ready for another before picture.

Day after day I visit these blogs and notice their consistent and steady virtuous spirit. Everyday holds abundance accomplishments and every tomorrow is guaranteed complete success. Maybe if I had a blog devoted to such goals as theirs, I'd be on the right track too and could avoid crash days like today. That's what I need: a blog entitled, "Her Praising Works."

As I searched on the last recipe site for the day, I wondered why I was even there considering I needed no meal ideas for tonight: we're having eggs and bacon. Simple as that. I figured if there's anything worth accomplishing today, it would be supper. So, I aimed low and hit right on the target. No big meal prep, no fuss and no frill. But we'll eat good and come away full and I'll feel like I did accomplish at least one thing today besides giving up.