tears feel good sometimes...

I have been under alot of pressure this past week, mostly from myself. When people are coming into the house every day, the normal mess that accumulates each day isn't acceptable, because they have to work around it. How can they clean the floors if the floors are covered with a potpurri of items? This is what I have been telling myself, although to be honest, I have known all along that this was mixed with PRIDE.....can't have the cleaning crew knowing we are slobs.

So mixed into all this pressure, is the imminent delivery of the new washer and dryer. Today is the day. The laundry room had to be ready. It hadn't been painted in 17 years, and fire makes a room look shabby. The linoleum was burned and subsequently ripped up and hauled away. So the room got one sloppy coat of paint, no primer, no second coat (I haven't finished nagging yet though), and last night Paul put down the linoleum. There is still no wall in the back of the room, just studs and the outside wall. We (meaning Paul) need to insulate and put up some sheetrock. I thought it would be perfect to have all this done BEFORE the arrival of the new w. and d. but, I am still alive, and it did not happen. I feel like I have put extra pressure on Paul to do what he has done, and I am still not happy about the room....so last night, the tears....

Poor me. I had gotten off my lazy one to get busy yesterday afternoon (although, to be fair, it was the first break I had taken all day...being gone shopping with kids all day is tiring, not to mention coming home with tired kids and putting everything away), and cleaned Charlotte Claire's room. The room where her crib is and all the toys are kept. It just gets so messy, with a little help of two little girls who like to dump things, and play with water in the play sink. It didn't take too long, and the kids were enthusiastic to help, as they like to play in there when it's clean. But this project ran into dinner time...and the bigger kids had chorus practice....

So I finished up and scrambled to put some dinner on the table. Two loaves of .88 cent Italian bread, butter, leftover meat sauce from the day before, two pounds of pasta, mixed vegetables, leftover homemade applesauce, leftover roast pork. Easy, but still.....we ate, and the kids wanted their stories, and help with their homework, and all sorts of attention. Which was fine. Paul was busy with the floor...and I went over to get a diaper as I was getting the kids ready for bed. I noticed a stack of church articles that were placed on a shelf differently than I wanted them, by the cleaning crew. So I decided to put them away properly...and in the process, I picked up the Adirondack Hiking guide. It had a staple sticking out of it, which snagged my thumb, I didn't realize it, and I pulled the book away, ripping some skin. Just a small small cut, seriously, but it hurt. And I stood there and cried. And I couldn't stop. I sat down and sobbed. I couldn't help it. It seemed like all the busyness and all the pressure just built up and I cried. The kids were alarmed, I had a good bit of blood on my thumb, but by then it wasn't my thumb anymore, it was just everything. Paul was gluing down the floor, and asking me what was wrong, so I just showed him my thumb, and said I was okay....then I tucked Charlotte Claire into bed...and I was still crying. I NEVER do this, unless someone dies or I lose a baby or something. Charlotte Claire was hilarious, she sat on the floor putting her pajamas on by HERSELF, and telling me that no crying was allowed in her room. She had me laughing, and by then I felt a lot better.

See, I had this vision of the whole house clean, and that is wonderful, but it can't happen all in one day, not with dinner, and real life, too. And, I got up out of bed extra early this morning, because I hurt my back again doing Charlotte Claire's room. Since I am a doctor, I now have concluded that it is probably a disc that moves out of place when I do too much bending and lifting, not a tumor. So now I have this compelling drive to clean the whole house, and a lower back that is not going to comply.

And God still loves me, and His word is still true. I had my tears, but I am not unhappy. No, the thoughts that come with the tears can be sneaky, "poor me" and such. But I have lots to work on internally, even if I can't do as much as I would like to around here.

I need to remember in all these things that a house needs to be a home for the family, warm and nourishing and safe. But does it really have to LOOK like a magazine house? There can be a lot of selfishness in my "wanting to make it nice around here" attitude.

Oh, so much to think about!

Now, it is time to get these kids up and out the door to school...and today I have to take Mali to the dr. and maybe for x-rays...she dropped something on her foot the other night when they were painting, and it swelled, and she can barely walk....oh, the fun....