Good Days

I can be a whole lot like Alexander. You know, Alexander from the children's book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. There are just some days when, from the very beginning of the morning, I am, as Will used to say, "done done." And I know there are days when, like Alexander, I would rather be in Australia, and I'm pretty sure there are days when the kids would rather I was there too.


In fact, most days around here are not easy. I still think moving from two to three was the biggest transition for us, but having four children just makes us a four ring circus vs. a three ring circus, and there are still only two people manning the rings! I am tired in a way I didn't really know I could be. It's part physical, but it's not like I've done manual labor. It's part mental, but it's not like I've written a thesis. And it's a lot emotional, but I am not dealing with any "real" problems that I hear about affecting so many people around me.

And yet, some days I go to bed exhausted and wake up only slightly less so. I admitted to my best friend that sometimes I actually feel like a shell of a person -  I know I look like I'm alive and functioning, but really I lack the ability to complete a thought, much less a conversation. In the past few weeks, I've thrown food into the trash can instead of the crock pot, filled Lillie's cup with half and half instead of milk, and actually fallen asleep right in the middle of an argument with Matt! And apparently the fatigue is contagious because the tooth fairy actually stopped one night late at our house because she had come down with "fairy flu!" These are not easy days.


Not every day is tough, but no matter how wonderful our day has been, it seems like all hell breaks loose about 45 minutes before Matt gets home, and one of the kids (and sometimes it's me) is in a heap on the floor before dinner. Whether it's the "arsnic hour" or not i can't say for sure, but children who have been otherwise cooperative the rest of the day will come unhinged for no apparent reason between 4:30-6:30 p.m. And though I may have calmly cleaned up ten spills earlier in the day, I am likely to go bonkers over the eleventh that is spilled at 5:30.


I should also mention that it now takes us 20 minutes to get in the car. Used to, when things got too tense around here, I would pile everyone in the car and give us a change of scenery. But now, there are days I would sooner attempt to climb Everest than try to get everyone to the car. I mean, I actually don't leave the house at least two days a week simply because of how incredibly long it takes us to get in the car. I can be looking at four children who appear dressed and ready to go, but I promise you, it's at least 20 minutes to wheels up. Shoes that were put on have been taken off - and probably lost. Babies that have been changed make it clear that they need to be changed again. Someone forgot to brush his or her teeth. Someone else decided to take out the pink bow that it took me 20 minutes to find in the first place. Getting out the door around here is like playing a really stressful game of whack-a-mole. And that's assuming everyone is already dressed.


And I really can't even get started about the mess. Lillie's splat mat is a complete biohazard. The crumbs found within hours of our children waking up to a clean floor amount to enough to feed a multitude. Sophie is the messiest child I've ever personally known. Will's hands are a petrie dish, and apparently, I spent too much time teaching about using toilet paper and not enough time teaching about flushing. I never dreamed my house would look like it does.

And yet, I know in my soul that even with the lost bows and 5 o'clock weeping and gnashing of teeth, these are good days. And though sometimes, I really need to be reminded, when I look at the gifts that God has entrusted to me, I am truly amazed. These four beautiful, intelligent, funny, interesting individuals have been given temporarily to me. And on top of that, I have been given this time, this season of life, to spend with them. Though that sometimes leaves me incredibly weary, I don't want to miss the joy that these days hold. And even the times that aren't "happy" are still good. Children are growing and so are their parents, and though that is not always pain-free, it is good.


Today we went to the Farmer's Market, had a great lunch with family at The Factory, cheered for Will at his soccer game, then took to the kids to the same Baskin Robbins I went to as a child, and ended our night with four generations of family cooking out at Mom and Dad's. It was such a good day.  Last Thursday, Sophie was not cooperative about her schoolwork, Will was home from CLC sick and cranky, Lillie found a drink in the trash can, and Lulu decided she'd rather be held while she napped. I'm pretty sure I sounded a bit like Alexander when I described the day to Matt. Well, if Alexander had developed a nervous twitch and a crazy eye.

But I refuse to miss the joy of tough days. I refuse to waste the time I am being given with these children, with this husband, living in what may well be a four ring circus. And though I am not naive enough to think that there won't be more days I'd like to describe as, "terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad," I know that I set the tone for how our family experiences each day, and what I most desperately want them to hear and see from me is gratitude. Gratitude to my family and friends who support me in truly incredible ways. Gratitude to Matt for being such a great husband and father and for modeling the power redemption playing out in a family. Most of all, I want them to see my gratitude to the Lord for all He has given us, especially for giving me each of them. These are not easy days, but even the most "terrible horrible" one around here is a gift. These are good days that I wouldn't miss for the world. Even for a trip to Australia.