chaos

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This morning was chaos. I mean it, if we had a dog, it would have keeled over as we walked past it! My darling husband had the children last night, while I went to help someone with something and when I returned he had made them dinner and cleaned the house. He then made a statement, “The kids are finished with their homework”. Like a gullible teenager (no offense teens, but you are gullible, I can give you life examples… just ask for them), I actually believed that this phenomenon was possible.

I woke up at 3 because I have a cold and wanted some warm steam to open my chest a bit and laid in the bed with BibleGateway and some hot tea and then fell asleep. I woke up 30 minutes later than normal, and had to get the children and myself ready. It started ok they were obedient… then I went to check homework. Yes, something was done, but not the correct assignments given to them by their teacher. What’s that you say? This doesn’t just happen in my house? Praise the Lord, there are more of you out there.

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I begin raising my voice, because that is what I do when I begin to feel panicked…we are running out of time and just as I write this I realize, Cash did not brush his teeth. Bummer… my dentist is going to be so disappointed in me. Time is closing in, Cash is now dressed but no socks and shoes. Loralei is eating. Yes. Her hair is a messy french braid from last night, I’ll get to it before she leaves I say. He is finished with his shoes, I have his homework and his breakfast on the table together… I will run and brush my hair. “Mom, I need a towel.” “Why?” “I spilled my tea, and it’s on the new library book”.

She does not mean the book that is new to her this week, she means the BRAND SPANKING NEW Library book. She doesn’t mention as she holds the dripping Caldecotte Winner in her little hands, that she has also spilled this on Cash’s homework notebook and his folder, or him.
He is wet. “Mom, I need new clothes”, in between a unkind text to the creator of this disaster, their dad of course… in case anyone actually wondered who I could mean, I was sliding new shorts onto his little body. He is now dressed, but his homework sheet is missing. Loralei, Cash and I search for the sheet which we find next to his wet shorts on the floor of his bedroom, and then begin his homework on the kitchen floor in the only dry spot with his cereal that he didn’t get to eat beside it.

The Hulk Smash within me is building. I have a temper, I admit it and I ask the Lord to deal with it, but I am turning green. NOTHING is going as it should! I have packed a lunch for both children in the midst of the madness and have them both racing to get jackets; and the bus should be here in less than 2 minutes…

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I say in a lovely motherly voice, “run, go as fast as you can to the bus stop. I love you, today will… ” the door slams… I am left, half clothed no makeup curled hair straight now without hairspray and I grab my lunch, my purse and keys and see a freshly poured glass of milk on the counter and think, “ahh, don’t waste it”. I attempt to open the refrigerator and yep, you guessed it, I drop the glass. Milk is now all over me in my outfit, on my purse and covering the floor. I release it. The cry that started as a tickle in my throat. I am in a full blown hissy fit, the kind I remember throwing in my room as a child. I mop up the floor, wipe off my outfit, re attach myself to my lunch, purse and keys and walk out of the house, as I hear the bus roll off down the street with my beautiful children inside.

spilled-milk

Not even close to the radius of my spill…

In the chaos of the morning, one truth remains the same: although my glass isn’t half full or half empty, it didn’t break when it hit the floor; because, He loves me.

Tomorrow His mercies will be new and lunches, and homework will be done Tonight. With me. The mom. Who follows the teachers directions. In case you were worried, I wouldn’t want to do this life without him, so we have already shared a laugh about life and how funny it is. He is. Not. Allowed. To. Do. Homework. With. Our. Children. Again. 🙂

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