This week I have been crabby and tired and unmotivated.
Some of this stems from the fact I am outnumbered 4 to 1 all day long.
My children, as beloved as they are to me, can tear a house apart in nothing flat. And I simply cannot keep up. The dishes, the laundry, the toys - oh my, the TOYS - the food, the whining, the schoolwork, the chores....even when they help it eventually spirals into overwhelming.
Like two days ago, when the five year old brought down Every. Single. Stuffed. Animal. and dumped them all over the floor. The living room was not passable. The next day *most of them* got moved to another floor. There were blankets and pillows and miscellaneous toys added to the mix. But my son, JB, assured me they were soft when I complained of not being able to walk through the room. I understood his reasoning. He did not understand mine.
Had that been the only thing, it wouldn't have been a big deal. But my days were compounding and the messes were, too. I could not keep up. And a small cold is working its way through the family, leaving my children as unmotivated as I am. Schoolwork? Ha! Play? In every room? Why yes....
I found myself crabby and tired and unmotivated.
To the point of tears. I went outside to paint my nails just to get a few moments alone (the outside thing ensures no spills with permanent effects).
I stopped JB from playing the harmonica while the toddler, Bitsy, napped.
I prayed. Or tried to.
As the day drew to a close my oldest son made pancakes for dinner. The joys of eclectic homeschool learning and a son who enjoys cooking. I can tell you I wasn't in the mood to make dinner. And I didn't like myself very much for it. My crabbiness was at myself as much as toward the people I love in my house. It's been a rough week on many levels.
Then my husband came home.
He helped the kids tidy the large room we spend so much time in. He encouraged them to carry all the stuffed animals back up. He spoke with the kindness that was trapped inside me, unable to get out no matter how much I wanted it to. He hugged me and told me he loved me. Several times.
He vacuumed the large room with chocolate brown carpet, now void of stuffed animals and Littlest Pet Shop and random Lincoln Logs. It is beautiful again. Except for the Silly Putty that's been stuck for a few weeks.
I thanked him for making my week less overwhelming. His answer was that he remembered reading that homeschool dads needed to pitch in, that there would be times like this - a lot.
And that he loved me.
He loves me even when I'm crabby and tired and unmotivated.
I'm sure I don't deserve him. But he's amazing and I plan to hang on to him for a long, long time....