On Being Enough

I woke up ready to conquer Monday and managed to get a few dozen banana chocolate chip muffins baked before the littles even left for school! I smiled proudly to myself and thought take that, Monday! The older two dashed out the door as their bus pulled up at the corner, but they made it just in time.

My morning was going fabulous until I decided to let the baby hold a sealed "yop" yogurt drink on the way home from grocery shopping. Half-way home Joseph exclaimed, "Mom! He opened it and dumped it all over himself!" Sure enough, Ollie managed to open a fully sealed container and dump it all over himself, his winter coat, the carseat, and the van seat. I remained calm, but inside I was frazzled. This was not how I planned to spend the rest of my morning. I lugged his seat into the house, dripping yogurt as we went, and plunked him down in the entry way. He smiled up at me while he sucked the last bit of yogurt from the bottle. I let out a sigh and went back to the garage to lug in the groceries. Then I unbuckled the base of the carseat and washed it in the tub. Next I pulled a very soggy baby from his carseat and held him as far away from me as possible while we walked to the bathroom where I could wash the yogurt from his hair. He went for a nap right away after and I filled a bucket of water and stomped off to the van to wipe everything down. Next I tore apart the carseat and put the cover in the wash. I had planned on spending that 45 minutes differently, but at least I can laugh about it later.

Not long after my sweet Two year old who is completely potty trained, but still needs help aiming, insisted on going to the bathroom and doing it all himself. I stayed close by for damage control as the spray got higher and higher. One quick move of his finger and we were both done for. I now had to clean the toilet seat, the floor, his shirt, and myself! I ran the tub again and ended up cleaning and disinfecting and entire bathroom (that wasn't on my list of things to do either). 

Now I have a very clean van, and bathroom. And I am tired. 

The kids came home from school excited to show me their report cards! Hyrum's teacher noted that she appreciates his "calm disposition". I smiled as I read it, because he truly is my calm, sober boy. Camilla's teacher said she is doing well, but needs to work on raising her hand and not shouting out answers. If they were casting for Harry Potter, Camilla would win the part of Hermione Granger for sure. She is smart and enthusiastic and reading at a mid grade 3 level. She loves to write and is very descriptive. 

The afternoon was uneventful. I felt burnt out and was having a hard time being the mother I wanted to be. I layed on the basement floor, exhausted, as the children climbed all over me and giggled. Soon we were all laughing.  I realized that they don't need to be going full speed all the time. These quiet moments together are sometimes just what we need to connect and come together.

Dinner was hardly exciting, but the chili warmed our bellies. We didn't have any vegetables, which made me feel like a terrible mother. Ya win some, ya lose some. I looked around the kitchen after dinner and couldn't help but wonder how it was already a mess again. Mr. Stannix pulled me close and said, "Don't worry, you'll live to fight another day." In other words, leave it, worry about it tomorrow. I managed to load the dishwasher while he tucked in the little boys so we would at least have clean spoons and bowls for breakfast. 

Ollie woke just as we were settling in for the night. I tried to capture a sweet moment where Daddy came to his rescue, but night photography is not my thing. There was something about the glow of the salt lamp, Ollie's arms around his neck and his chubby hand clinging to his shirt. As they swayed in the glow of the light, I couldn't help but pause in the doorway and smile (and then curse my photography skills afterwards). At least it's captured in my mind.

At days end I could hardly move (thanks to a nasty cold that I've contracted). My body ached. My head was pounding. The kitchen was still a mess, winter coats carpet my entry way and boots lay right where they were kicked off after school. I can't help but look around my house and feel unaccomplished as I think about my "list" for the day. What DID I do today?! Was it enough? Did I give enough hugs/time/attention to everybody? 

This week feels a little bit stressful as we wrap up swimming lessons, attend activity days, have daddy working late, do parent teacher interviews, and plan Joe's first "Friend" birthday party. Sometimes it's hard to feel like enough with pinterest worthy birthday parties floating around in my head. Sometimes I feel bad that our kids aren't in more extra-curricular activities and I worry that I'm holding them back. Sometimes my messy house bothers me and I wish that I could have Martha Stewart worthy decor. Sometimes it's hard to feel like you're winning at life when you have a mount Everest of laundry on the basement couch waiting to be folded.  

My dear husband talks me back to reality and reminds me of all the good I do, the little things that often go unnoticed. The reality is the kids won't care how fancy the cupcakes are as long as they're edible. They probably won't remember each party that I throw them, but they will remember that I cared enough to try. We do things at a slower pace around here, and that's completely okay! We like being together and slow works for us. And ultimately, comparing my worst to someone's best is not fair.

I wipe away my tears and walk across the hall to do night checks. The children are sleeping peacefully, their covers kicked to the bottom of the bed and their pillows askew. All they want is my time, my love, and my attention. The rest isn't important. I pull their blankets back to their chins, gaze on their angelic faces and for a brief moment I feel like I'm enough.