Saturday, February 16, 2013

The not-so-glamorous life (and just what I asked for)

The kitchen sink is full--and I mean FULL--of dishes waiting patiently but not very unobtrusively for me to wash them.  
My son, who decided that one 45 minute nap was all he really cared to take today, is wailing in his bed in a room which only a few hours ago belonged to him and my husband and myself.  Now, after quite a bit of furniture shuffling, it is Ruby and Max's room.  How long it will stay that way depends on how long he keeps yowling like a cat that needs to get fixed. (That sounded ominous, but don't worry, his boy parts are not in danger of being removed.)
Meanwhile, our new room (AKA Ruby's old room) is in no way organized. Everything was unceremoniously dumped into it, because it was more important to get the kids' room taken care of.
The floors need to be swept and really could do with a good mopping.
Max and Ruby's booster seats are like disgusting food-fossil digs and really need to be cleaned out.  
There's laundry that needs to be folded and put away and not just left in a clean but cluttery pile everywhere.  
My dinner consisted of one pancake, which I'm pretty sure is not enough, but the thought of dirtying more dishes to make more food fills me with dread: not unlike the effect which "the silence of the infinite spaces" had upon Pascal, my son's namesake.  
Max is still yowling.  Ruby has stopped her crying, though.  Is it possible that she, unlike me, can fall asleep while he is fussing?  That would be a blessed gift.
The house is disorderly at best.
I have quite a few projects backing up on me right now that need attention, but they all seem to require space and time, both of which seem at a premium.
It's only going to get more-so.  I don't say "it's only going to get worse" because that doesn't take into account the fact that my children are blessings and gifts.  But this not-glamorousness, this mundane messiness, it is only going to increase.  And I'm thankful, because what I always wanted, even from a very young age, was to be a wife and mommy.  It's just not a fancy existence.  

I'd like to close with the lyrics of the song, "Sacred" by Caedmon's Call. It's going out to all the parents out there who feel the weight of the ordinary, repetitive, and sometimes drudging jobs of parenthood.  Ours is a holy calling.  

this house is a good mess
it’s the proof of life
no way would I trade jobs
but it don’t pay overtime

I’ll get to the laundry
I don’t know when
I’m saying a prayer tonight
cause tomorrow it starts again

could it be that everything is sacred?
and all this time
everything I’ve dreamed of
has been right before my eyes

the children are sleeping
but they’re running through my mind
the sun makes them happy
and the music makes them unwind

my cup runneth over
and I worry about the stain
teach me to run to You 
like they run to me for every little thing

when I forget to drink from you
I can feel the banks harden
Lord, make me like a stream
to feed the garden

wake up, little sleeper
the Lord, God Almighty
made your Mama keeper
so rise and shine,rise and shine 
rise and shine cause

everything is sacred
and all this time
everything I’ve dreamed of
has been right before my eyes


2 comments:

  1. I love getting perspective from posts like this. You are so awesome, Mrs. C!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Brooke!
    And how awesome is my husband, who read this blog post and then the next day cleaned all of the things that I mentioned needed cleaning?!!
    Very Awesome!

    ReplyDelete