cold drizzly rainy day...

Who in their right mind would get up at 6:30 on a chilly dark morning and take their big stupid dog for a walk in the rain? hmm. I did get sidetracked, made pancakes for the kids, and put the coffee on..then I took Miss Bad Dog for a cheaty-short walk. We skipped the hill. It was pouring out, which doesn't bother me too much, but also the bus was going to be coming, and Rosie is a nut when it comes to School Buses. So I have to take her on another walk later. The fun part of this morning's walk? I jogged back! I did stop once because jogging is so foreign to me I thought I was going to trip and fall, but Rosie loved it. She kept looking back at me with a huge grin on her face saying, "Are we really going this fast! YES!"

So there is hope for me, the Laziest Woman Alive.

Charlotte Claire has some strong opinions about her kindergarten clothes. She did not want to wear the cute little polka-dotted rainboots. She did not want to wear the colorful raincoat. So she won, she went out the door in her little plaid sneakers and her fleece jacket.

Joseph and Mali are both home, sleeping of course. They do not have classes today. That means I can take Rosie on a longer walk later, yay. It also means perhaps we shall get some seriously overdue library books returned to the far-away library.

So...Tereza asked if Paul ever wants things to be more orderly around here. He has sort of given up, I think. I had to train him to accept the toys in the living room. I have always liked to sort of play with the kids with their toys/watch them play, never wanted to just shuffle them off to their rooms to play...add this to my Toy Addiction (especially dollhouse stuff), and yes, there are toys in here. We try to keep it neat, and picked up between playtimes, but still...it is obvious at all times that kids live here. Paul is neat and clean, takes care of his own things, does his own laundry, makes his own lunches every night. I know I feel more stressed when it is overly messy, so I try to keep it to a minimum if I can...there were days and months and years when I tried my best to keep it neater, but it was like hitting my head against the wall...sometimes he would come home from work and just start cleaning up. It would bother me and make me feel like I wasn't doing enough, but after a while I realized that he just liked it less stressful, like I did.

There are some things that neither of us like, things that make it seem crazy around here:

1. Screaming. If they slammed their finger in the door or someone pulled their hair, fine. But screaming as a part of regular life or in play, nah.

2. Slamming doors and jumping on the couch.

3. Running through the living room, except for in the winter/rainy days when they pick up the toys and run around the circle that is the kitchen/living room...over and over again until we can't take it anymore.

4. Really loud talking/interupting/arguing....

5. Shoes on in the house...

Anyway...we seem to be on the same page as far as the house goes, mostly. He has more energy than me and would keep it cleaner, but he doesn't clean the way I clean, so I am fine with it my way. ha. (he likes under the couches clean, so when it seems the very most inconvenient, he decides to clean under them...)(he does find some really good stuff under there)

So...yesterday afternoon was interesting around here. It isn't always smooth sailing. We can sow things into our children, try our best to be good examples, but they are human, and even though they might KNOW how to behave, they don't always put it into practice. It gets really challenging when several of them are upset about things at the same time....

Here's what happened:

After a busy day of cleaning, mopping the kitchen, playing with Camille, ect., we went to my comfy bed with a stack of story books. By book #4, my eyes were closing and I could barely form the words...I conked. She conked. Then the Propane Man pulled into the drive way with that truck that drives Rosie crazy...bark, bark, bark, bark...blah. I was wide awake. I had slept for FIVE minutes. Wide awake yet exhausted. So...I got up.

After making up a chore list for the kids, greeting them when they came in, and hearing some school horror stories (one kids was late in Suze's class because he had to go to the bathroom! what a good reason to get yelled at! blah) Anyway, I decided to work out. I put on my sneakers, and tried to do some stair stepping...Mom, Mom, Mom...blah, I love them, but when I have my earphones in, please, I am trying to get some exercise here...my legs are already protesting, don't give me more reasons to say Forget It. Then Mali wants to go to school to watch a cross-country meet, which seems ridiculous to me. I tell her to ask Joe. I start really getting into my exercise. She comes back. Joe can't, too much homework. Ask Aaron. Step, step, step...Aaron can't, too busy. Blah. I ignore her and go get on the treadmill. I am going really fast when I am informed that one child threw a cup of milk at another child in the kitchen, and won't clean it up because it was the child who offended him who was at fault. rrr. I try to ignore this, but after 8 minutes of listening to slamming around and wondering if things are okay up there, I give up. blah. I took Mali to school. Straightened out the fight. Directed the clean-up...

I know, boring details, but I just want to make the point that it isn't always smooth sailing. Kids are kids, they rub elbows, they have demands, they talk back...I am there in my invisible striped shirt with my invisible whistle, tired and sick of it, yet I can't just quit and walk away. It seems like there is no goodness in me, yet I have to still be good. It is by the grace of God I got through yesterday afternoon without losing it!

Also...I am okay with losing the baby, 90% of the time. I am fine, normal, functioning...just once in a while ouch. It is getting better mostly.

This brave little kitten is a pain in the neck sometimes. He sits on the arm of the chair washing his little face, all satisfied because he cleaned out my oatmeal bowl. He sees me put it down on the table next to my chair and runs over for a taste. He thinks the kitchen table is a good place to run around, and even hops over onto the counters...he has some lessons to learn. He tries to get outside, and we want him to be an indoor cat. (fleas, cars, ect.) He beats the heck out of Rosie's tail, climbs all over her, drinks her water, I can't believe how much she puts up with. He is on top of her cage right now while she takes her morning nap. He bugs the heck out of her, all with such an innocent little face.

Yes, life is good.

The lasagna that Mirielle made was good, too. Too good. I made a big bowl of spinach for myself, cooked with lemon-pepper seasoning, and had a few tablespoons of lasagna on top of it, with some extra sauce and hot sausage slices.

Days with Camille are sweet. She likes to Do Her Homework. I give her some old school papers, pens, crayons, a glue stick, scissors...and she keeps busy forever, counting and coloring and circling things and making letters. She was hesitant to go to her room to play dollies at first, but now she is fine with it. She took a long bath by herself yesterday and enjoyed being Boss of the Faucet. She asks me things, and if I say yes, she says, "Do you promise? Pinky promise?" I don't know where she learned that. She doesn't act like a baby at all, rather like a miniature grown-up. She is very sweet, hardly ever contrary, and tells me all the time how much she loves me. She is also very huggy and affectionate. I just want time to go by slowly....