I'm Thinking of Packing This Family Off to a Third World Country

Mornings are pretty hectic around my neck of the woods. Not as busy as they used to be when I worked for a pay cheque (those mornings would be labeled 'insanity at its finest') but then again, there's The Baby added to the mix and now two teenagers instead of one.

This morning's routine was the usual. Make coffee, make breakfast for the younger girls, make 4 lunches, supervise clothing choices, ensure breakfasts are being consumed, make Husband's coffee to go, brush hair, order teeth to be brushed, find stuff in fridge for males in the family, empty dishwasher, trip over the dog, ask who's turn it is to take out dog, ensure assorted items needed for school are in backpack, spray aloe vera onto The Eldest's back that she sunburned 5 days before wearing a strapless graduation dress. Just what millions of other moms in our glorious country of freedom and clean water do every day. Getting their families ready for another day of learning and work.

This morning's whining and complaining coming from my assorted children about how unjust and unfair their lives are living under my regime started to get on my nerves. Actually, it got on my last nerve and snapped it in half. The complaints were about everything from having to walk to school to how unfair it was that I was MAKING a child eat peanut butter on her toast instead of getting cinnamon and sugar. No amount of calm and rational explanations on my part was getting through their thick skulls.

Ok. It all started out calm and rational on my part and ended with the statement, "I think I should ship the lot of you off to India for a month! Then you'd see how lucky you've got it!"

Ugh.

Much as I'd like to blame some flaming PMS on that statement, I think it may have been my subconscious creeping out into the light and pointing its finger at me. I get mad at my kids for not recognising how good they've got it. Do I recognise how good I've got it?

I think I mostly do. Most days. Then the neighbour went and rebuilt her already beautiful deck in a short 3 days and when I looked out at it this morning at her perfect backyard with her green patio set I felt nothing but pure envy. ENVY. It's not fair. I want our backyard finished. I want a green patio set. I want to plant pretty flowers. I want. I want. I want.

*smack upside the head*

I live in a house. No, a home. I have a husband who works hard for our family every day. My neighbour with the beautiful deck does not. I have four healthy children. I have friends who have spent weeks in the hospital with their child and may have to do again in the future. I have food in the house to make all those breakfasts and pack all those lunches everyday. Many families in our own community, never mind India, rely on food banks and have sent their children to school hungry and are worried about what they are going to feed them for dinner.

My family has so much. Are we rich? No. Do we struggle to pay all the bills every month? Yes. Do we have cable and cell phones? Yes. Do my kids know how lucky they are? No. I don't think they do.

"Why do I have to walk to school? It's not fair! I can't walk fast! I'll be late. It's not my turn to take out the dog. It's hard to walk to school because I have so much to carry. I don't want peanut butter. I want cinnamon and sugar. It's not fair!!!!!!"

"Why do I have to make all these lunches? Why did you have to step in that pile of dirt....I just swept that! Why can't you kids see how good you've got it???"

Maybe what I meant to say this morning is that our whole family needs to be shipped to India for a month. And not wealthy India. Third world India. Or perhaps a walk through the downtown Vancouver Eastside, or visit the Salvation Army's homeless shelter in our very own community.

At least, an attitude change by me.

I'm grateful for a husband who is too tired to finish the backyard because he works so hard everyday and many times into the weekend for our family.

I'm grateful that The Eldest is graduating this weekend because it means she's had the opportunity to get an education and that she will be heading to university in the fall. How many women in the world can say that?

I'm grateful that The Boy is eating us out of house and home. It means he is healthy and growing and on his way to being a man.

I'm grateful that The Princess was sick last week. It meant I could take her to the doctor and use our pretty awesome health care system. How many people in the world have access to health care, let alone universal access to health care?

I'm grateful I have to watch The Baby every second. I'm grateful that she's so busy and curious. It means I have the opportunity to stop and look at bugs and sticks and butterflies and rocks and 'find the quiet' in days full of stuff to do.

Today I am choosing to be grateful.

How about you?

Ebbing and Flowing

There's an ebb and flow to blogging.

There's been a lot of ebbing and not a lot of flowing going on around this little blog.

I have a lot of excuses. I had a cold. There was a child with a cold. Then there was a husband with cold.

'Nuff said about that.

Oh, and we were out shopping for alternative transportation of the non eggplant kind. And, BOOOYA! We found one.

I never thought I could be so excited about spending money. And about spending money on a minivan. On a 6 year old minivan. That is not purple.

I know many people get rid of their vehicles when they get to the great age of 6. There's a lot of people who probably think that my euphoria is uncalled for. I mean, where's the zing in a 6 year old minivan? Even if it's not purple.

Well, those people were not driving a 13 year old purple minivan.

Everything in life is relative. A full fridge and pantry that's the norm to one person is only a dream to many others. A house full of kids can be frustrating and cause a harried mom to pray to God for just one quiet moment to herself. But a childless woman prays to God to take away all the quietness in her life, and replace it with a child.

Rough patches in life make us appreciate the good.

The bad helps us to clarify what 'good' really is.

It's tough when you're in the middle of all the crap, but truly helps us to be grateful for the 6 year old minivan. That's full of children and groceries.

Ah, the ebb and flow of life. It's a wonderful thing.

Christmas Tradition

Christmas can now arrive. I have had my annual sit at the kitchen counter and cry while reading the Christmas letter from a special family.

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, so long ago I only had two children....I met a little boy with dark curly hair, and he changed my life. It's been 8 years since we moved and I still cry when I open their Christmas card and read about the entire family's year. Every year I tell myself I will not cry, and every year the tears start flowing at the sight of his name on the paper.

I save the pictures for last. And see this little boy grown up to be 5' 10" and receiving awards in middle school and gosh darn it, just looking so darn handsome and happy. Loving life. Then the tears really start to flow and all the kids start making fun of me. They don't even need to ask who the card's from. They know.

My tears are happy tears. Happy for his hard work, the amazing people in his life and for the incredible family who have helped him to be successful. And I always feel honoured that I got to be a small part in his life.

So, I've had my cry, dried my eyes, and blotted the pictures and letter with a wad of tissue so everyone else in the family can have a look.

And wait for the next time they can make fun of their mother for being a Pisces.

My Mom

My Mom has breast cancer.

There. I said it. I've written about the fact that someone close to me has cancer, but wasn't able to say who it was because...well....she has a public type job and it wasn't my place to put it out there on a public forum such as this.

But the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, and I have to say that there's relief in it. So many friends and acquaintances have emailed and contacted me in the last day to let me know they and their families are praying for my Mom, it's mind boggling. And wonderful. And comforting.

It is amazing to read and hear about other moms who have fought this disease and WON. It helps so much to remember to focus on the positive, trust in God, and be reminded that He is still in control.

I love my mom. I know she can win this fight. It's wonderful to have the support of prayers from so many people.

Thanks.

Big Girl's Bed

It's time.

The last true piece of baby equipment needs to leave the house.

I may cry. Oh who am I kidding? I WILL cry.

Slowly but very surely, the massive collection of baby paraphernalia has exited the house. At first, I cheered. Bouncy seats, baby swing, exersaucers and floor exercise equipment all left the house one by one. I fondly remember the day our living room was no longer decorated in pastel and neon plastic. What a moment to walk straight across the carpet instead weaving in and out of baby 'stuff'.

But my baby was still a baby then. It didn't hurt to get rid of those things. I still had my baby, who still needed to be tucked into her crib at night.

Just two days ago I commented to Heath how grateful I was that even though Keeley is such a climber, she has never tried to climb out of her crib. She must have been listening. She almost made it out herself this morning.

And so, down will go the side of the crib so she can get in and out without breaking something important on her chubby body. Bunk bed shopping will earnestly begin since the girls share a room.

And I shall go and have a good cry by myself in the bathroom where no one in this family can make fun of me. They don't understand. All you mothers out there do.

I will have a good sob over my last baby turning into a little girl in the blink of an eye. They will be tears for what is over and tears for being finished this part of motherhood. They will be mixed with tears of gratefulness too...thankful for a wonderful two year old who is able to climb and run and draw pictures of Mommy and Daddy. I will never forget that after her birth, we did not know if she would do any or all of those things.

And in the middle of my sob fest, a child will start urgently knocking on the door, the phone will ring, the old mutt will start peeing on the carpet and someone will start yelling "Get your foot off my ear!!"

How many years until Keeley goes to college?

Dreams

Once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamed of living in the suburbs. She dreamed of having four messy children and a husband who went to Victoria without her on the weekend to help run lifeguard competitions. She dreamed about driving a beat up purple minivan and changing exploded diapers in the middle of the night. She dreamed of yappy dogs, carpets that needed vacuuming and dirty dishes in the sink.

She didn't dream of marrying into wealth, living in a fancy home, or driving a convertible '69 Mustang. She didn't dream of big breasts, a flat stomach and no laugh lines. She most certainly didn't dream of 1.8 children and a maxed out RRSP fund. And she didn't dream of cosmopolitans at dinner parties seating 12 or caring what the labels said inside her clothes.

And this little girl was lucky. Because her dreams came true. And because her dreams came true, she was blessed with daily reminders to live in the moment, not to take things for granted, to love people not things. She was blessed with moments like a 2 year old discovering the antennae on slugs and the beauty a 6 year old sees in flowering weeds. She knew to be grateful for smelly 12 year old's socks because it reminded her that he was a boy as God made him. This girl knew to be grateful for a 16 year old wanting to talk at midnight. She knew those were some of the best times to talk.

Life wasn't easy. Life would have been so carefree if she had dreamed that different dream. But God knew her heart. He knew she couldn't grow and flourish and learn to see the beauty of His creation if she was driving a Mustang. He knew this little girl needed to stay grounded with vehicle repairs and oil stains on the carpet. He knew her needs as He created her. So He placed those dreams inside of her and stood by watching proudly as He allowed them to come true, one by one, just as the stars appear on a cloudless night.

And that little girl was happy. And grateful. And knew she was blessed. And thanked God everyday for allowing her dreams to come true.

Although she is dreaming that her next minivan is any colour but purple.