Sundays are so good. I mean they are nuts. Like really nuts. Like Sunday church for a Mormon woman who has five children she has to get ready, feed and then coerce into sitting reverently for one hour and then teach and entertain another 50 kids in singing time the other two hours mostly involves lots of sweating. Like dripping down my face. Jason taught his first primary class (he subbed the 11 year olds) and saw my antics for the first time. He knows, he lives with it.
Anyhow, all the sweating is worth it in the end.
But then there is Monday. After any high and rejuvenation, there is the fall and Paisley has been getting up like 4 times a nite and usually crawling in my bed after I've given up putting her back again which is very bad for sleeping for me. This has been going on and on and on and none of my usual tricks are working. And then there is the morning rush out to school, and the ups and downs of the day. But I've learned to just ride it out and end on an up.
We went on a walk for family home evening tonite. Darby and Luke rode their bikes beside us and Baylie pushed Ivy in the stroller. Then we got home and Luke read the Ivy and Paisley books in their bed and those are the moments that I'm like, yes, this is exactly what I was hoping my family would be like. Especially with cherries on top when Luke played the piano for the song and we all sang to it "I love to see the temple." (it was so inspired that I went on the hunt for that piano last year!) Those moments are pinch me perfect, and remind me we are on the right track. We are doing some good.
So, hopefully it makes up for the loud voices, and lost tempers and butting heads that happens when you have seven strong willed people living in 1800 sq feet.
Luke's room was rearranged last nite, and I did the girls with them this morning. There is something so therapeutic about rearranging a space. Like who cares if everything is old or mismatched, look we changed it around so now it seems new and fresh. Need to desperately, desperately do that for my bedroom, because it is the most neglected spot.
Lately I have been sharping my resourcefulness skills. They are like a razor I swear. Ya didn't know resourcefulness is a talent? Well it is my friend, and one every woman needs to polish.
Talents have been on my mind lately. Contemplating my childrens and my own. The kids surely scored and should count their lucky stars cause they have them in abundance. Seems like they have the best of Jason and mine combined. But I have always felt like I got jipped in the talent department. In light of counting my blessing and what gifts I have been given I have come up with a few of my own. Want to hear them? I know you do. (none of them are perfected by the way, just maybe got an extra dose)
Resourcefulness (ie: ghetto fix, create something out of nothing, pull dinner out of hat, take your pick)
Patience with other peoples quirks and unpolished edges
A bad memory (which is integral in the previously mentioned talent)
The ability to befriend
Constant conversation (can be on the con list sometimes)
Very little pride (at least when it comes to putting myself out there and doing embarrassing things like sing very loudly by myself in front of poor defenseless children and adults)
The ability to seek out those who I admire and more talented than I and learn from them
While I haven't perfected the 'taking a chill pill' talent, its one I'm working on.
Anyway, I don't think its too healthy to think about yourself too much, its good to recognize what we might take for granted that comes easily, might be much more difficult for another person.
Thats my nightly rant.
So, off to conquer another chore tonite, or at least tackle the laundry. :) Jason is buzzing Luke's head as I type this, better go see how it turns out.
Hot tip of the day: Don't touch your face with the curling iron. It hurts and you'll look like you got punched in the face. Just wanted to feel 13 again. maybe I should rat my bangs for nostalgia sake