August is coming to a close much quicker than I thought it would. As I stared at my calendar this week I couldn't believe how few days we had left to enjoy before my oldest begins grade two and our daily routines shift once more. The younger boys have taken it upon themselves to help prepare me for baby and most nights I see every hour on the clock as I shuffle them between beds, give a cuddle after a bad dream, endure middle of the night tantrums, and fill sippy-cups. With my due date just around the corner I have reached a whole new level of "survival mode" and a lot of things (including my blog) have been pushed aside. I wake with dark circles under my eyes that seem too big these days for even make-up to hide While Summer has provided a nice break of sorts and an opportunity to recharge, the chores and other motherly duties have always been there, and lately it takes everything in me to complete them.
Each morning I am woken by the sound of tiny feet walking to my bedside. They are up before the sun and they tug on my arm and beg for "bepest" until I wake enough to answer them. When I reach the kitchen I find them seated quietly at the table as the first rays of sun poke over the roof tops. They enjoy a yogurt and talk in whispers until everyone else wakes. Some mornings Finley will hang off my legs as I make breakfast. If I pause in front of
the counter too long he lays his head on my foot and doesn't move, still
tired from waking up too early.
In an effort to get back into routine, I have printed new and improved chore charts and hung them in the kitchen. Some days it's like pulling teeth to get everyone to complete their tasks, and others the heavens open and everything goes smoothly. I love when I hear them doing team work to complete their morning chores. Camilla helps Hyrum with his room and vice-a-versa. Joe gets dressed in the same undies he wore the day before because there's no clean one's left (even though I just washed his clothes the day before yesterday). He beams with pride after cleaning his room and excitedly colors in his circles on the chore chart. The whining and fighting is slowly decreasing, and they are loving the feeling of being responsible for something.
I try to get our running around done in the morning to ensure we have a solid nap time in the afternoon. After buckling everyone in, I turn on the van to find the lights on, wipers going full blast, and left signal light blinking. I smile, Joe was here.
While we drive to the grocery store Hyrum gives me a few winks in the rear view mirror. It's kind of become a special way to tell each other I love you. Everyone behaves well, except a certain rambunctious preschooler who delights in running up and down the aisle. He ends up buckled in the car cart next to his little brother who's face and arms show every color of the rainbow in washable marker.
When we get home, I lug the groceries in and take a quick bathroom break. I can hear Finley digging in the grocery tote and hurry to see what he's up to. I come out to find an egg cracked perfectly over the top of a pop bottle and pooling at the bottom of the tote. I close my eyes and take a deep breath while Finley gives the sweetest apology, "So-wee, Mom."
I haven't had a chance to clean up breakfast yet, but the children are hungry again. I muster up as much energy as I can and make them each a slice of cheese whiz toast. Everyone enjoys it, except Joe who prefers to scoop the cheese whiz off with his fingers and smear it on his cheeks for a laugh.
As the children play I toss in a load of laundry. It takes almost a whole day to complete it as I tinker with the washer every time it flashes the error code. It doesn't drain properly this week and I have resorted to kicking and smacking the lid to get it started again. I let out a sigh of relief when the load successfully goes through! As I open the washer I find a ten pound pull-up, soaked beyond capacity with water. The little gel beads are all over the rest of the clothes that are supposed to be clean, and I want to cry. I send it through a rinse while crossing my fingers and toes in hopes that it will work one more time.
After tending to the dog outside, I head to the bathroom to wash my hands. The hand soap is empty again from being used as shampoo for the dinosaurs or other plastic animals. I step in the small remaining puddle from a morning of sink play while I turn on the tap. The hand towel is on the floor and I pick it up for the hundredth time.
I look around the basement and realize it could use a bit of a clean. As I tidy the toys into a laundry basket, I find a big wad of pink bubble gum mashed into the carpet by the couch. I take a deep breath and remind my preschooler that gum belongs in the garbage. Finley rubs my back and smooches my lips while I crawl around the floor, so aware of the exhaustion I feel.
When I walk into the kitchen I find that Finley has overflowed the water cooler...again. Thankfully, one of the older kids offers to bend and clean it up for me this time.
Later in the afternoon I fold the blankets from their morning fort and find a giant plastic cup, still half full of water with three bendy straws hanging over the edge. Using those imaginations must make them pretty thirsty.
I send Joe off to join his older siblings at the park and peek out the kitchen window to make sure they're all together. It's been a bit of a tough afternoon, and just when I think they can't possibly be friends anymore, I see the older two rush towards Joe and embrace him in a big sibling hug. Later, they all hold hands as they come home for another snack before I've even had a chance to wipe up the crumbs from their last.
As I make dinner I ask Camilla to go check on Joe. She chuckles and then says, "Why? Are your Joe senses tingling?" I can't help but laugh.
Mr. Stannix brings me home some beautiful flowers to show his love and to help cheer me up. They look lovely on my table and remind me of him throughout the day.
We all sit down for a chaotic dinner and before I know it, we're thick in the middle of the bedtime routine. Daddy helps rally the troops with his watch timer while I wrestle the toddler into his jammies. After scriptures and prayers we tuck each of the littles in and I breath a sigh of relief. I've made it through another day.
Once the littles have finally fallen asleep I find myself in the middle of dishes with tears running down my cheeks. Tears of exhaustion. Tears because I constantly feel inadequate. Tears of frustration because I haven't been able to serve others as much as I'd like since I'm so busy serving in my home. Tears of love for a certain rambunctious child who is struggling to show respect to others, as his actions scream for attention each day. I wonder how much of that is my fault and plead with Heavenly Father for the ability to help him. I think of my own mom and wonder if she ever felt this way after a long day at home. And then I turn around and notice a little, red sticky note on the wall by my kettle. Written in a little girl's handwriting is a simple, "I love you Mom" followed by a heart. The tears flow faster as I think of the simple love a child can have despite one's shortcomings.
As the sun dips down behind the mountains, I am left feeling dizzy from constantly doing things that are being undone. It's hard to feel accomplished as a mother when the sink fills with dishes shortly after you've emptied it and clothes get tossed in the hamper just after you've washed them. Trying to find a sense of accomplishment is a daily struggle for me lately.
I recently read a blog post where a wise mamma shared some advice that she received from her own mother. She wrote, "You can't think of what you need to accomplish as a list... It's a circle." This small bit of advice reminded me that I need to stop measuring myself against my to-do list. Motherhood isn't about the mundane tasks that need completing each day, it's about the little things, the small efforts. So for now, I'm celebrating the little things and trying to feeling accomplished in those. Soon the littles will all be grown, and I will be left wishing for these days back again.
