And you thought YOUR day was bad...

This is my first "official" post... I doubt many will ever come to this blog, but that is okay. I am not necessarily writing it for someone else... however, you are all welcome to read it.

Here is something I wrote not too long ago. It came after a period of hard times. Ill children, specialist appointments back to back, increased therapy appointments, a newborn baby, and more. Of course, things calmed down a bit since then, but as I was going through my files, I found this- and thought of what a good reminder it is to me.

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The tiny shrew amongst our family...

sees a comedic site every day! I am sure of it! We have a five year old boy with a genetic syndrome. We also have a three year old boy with a different genetic syndrome, and a rare form of cerebral palsy. We have a two year old girl who on her best days can be referenced to as a "Little Princess"- and on her normal days- her brothers lovingly refer to her as "Little Monster". Tie that all with a baby who is just learning to sit, eat, scoot and scream! It is not necessary to point out that our family is a bit on the "far side".

Today was supposed to be a new day. A fresh start, after a month of harriedness. I was going to get many hours of sleep last night- the medicine bottle practically promised it with a touting "Cough relief for 8 hours"! I awaken at 2 in the morning with four little eyes peering at me, and I hear a small voice saying "Mama. Sleep wid ewe." The voice was my two year old daughter. She had been coughing all day yesterday... and the coughing apparantly awoke her... (but the bottle said... !!!) The accompanying pair of eyes to that voice were so pathetic to see- so, I scooted on over, allowing her to snuggle up beside me. The other set of eyes was from the five year old, who had obviously been awakened by his sister's coughing. Now anyone with littles obviously knows that you don't let one in your bed, and send the other away. So- he crawls up between Daddy and Mommy because he's "afrightened". (No, we have not yet been studying grammar!)

Fast forward to 4:20am. I hear... zzzzip! I know that sound! I dread that sound! It is the sound of my three year old unzipping his bed. One of the pitfalls to his genetic syndrome is that he does not sleep. We have a special bed that he is not supposed to be able to figure out how to get out of. Despite the fact that specialists have termed him with "mental retardation"- apparantly no one has ever explained that to my three year old before. He figures out everything. And, my husband and I don't buy that description of him anyway. (Won't they all be surprised when they re-evaluate him when he's five... he'll be a genius! Or at least- that's what we will think!) Anyway... my darling husband gets up. I assume it is to take care of our three year old. Later, MUCH TOO LATER, I discover that, no- actually dh does not arise to care for our son. He arises to move himself to the recliner in the livingroom, but he does not remember doing so. Our bed was too crowded.

While we sleep-the shrew laughs. I can hear her- that taunting little laugh.

My husband prepares to leave for work- oblivious to what has happened. Our little son had climbed into his daddy's lap and fallen back to sleep. So, my husband places him back into his bed, and proceeds to fumble through the darkness in preparation for his leave. He did not notice anything amiss.

Fast forward to 6:08 am. Husband is at work. Five and two year olds are contendedly laying in my bed, snoring. One with her foot jammed into my side and the other with his arm across my neck. I hear screaming. No, it is not that little shrew caught in the trap. I wish she would go away. The noise is coming from the crib only four feet away. The baby has awakened with a fever, and what appears to be an earache. This pain is all my fault. Or at least, that is what the baby will have me to believe, for as she screams- she looks at me as if to say "You horrible Mother! Oh the pain! Why can you not take away this pain!" She refuses to nurse, and my best antidotes do not calm her. This continues until 7:20 am. And then she looks at me, whimpers, and crashes upon my shoulder. I tip toe to her crib. Oh so gently, I lay her down. She whimpers yet again. I hold my breath and freeze. She puts her thumb in her mouth and appears to settle down. I turn and walk away, sighing! SCREAM!!! How did that girl hear me sigh! It begins all over again. The other children are now awake, and clammering for attention. One wants breakfast RIGHT NOW! "Can't you see dear, that Mommy is busy? I can make you breakfast at our normal time. You may either go back to bed, or you may go read books. " WAIL! Oh, brother! I finally get the baby calm and figure she will be slinged to me for the day. Nothing I can do to prevent that. I will get a sore back, but at least I will still be able to get things done.

I walk into the kitchen to go prepare breakfast...Water is running to fill the pan. Go to the pantry for oatmeal. Get out the brown sugar- for children feel that oatmeal without it is pure treason. Go to turn the stove on. Woah! My stove is sparkling??? I'd like to say that this is because it is so clean. But, alas- honesty proves that it is not from being clean. There are crumbs mixed in with the glittery mess. Now, how did the glitter get on the stove top, I muse to myself? (Remember- at this point I was unaware that my son was unattended during the wee morning hours.) The craft drawer is always locked. I turn to double check. NOPE! The craft door has been unlocked. And,there is chocolate all over it. Chocolate? Where is the chocolate from?

The little shrew is mocking me from her little nest. I wish I could squash that shrew!

Could my little three year old possibly unlock the child safety lock? And if so, where is the chocolate coming from? Well, three year old admits "Ah Opuh"- which translated to normal human verse means "I opened". O.K. So, I turn around and prepare to clean up the chocolate on the cabinet door and lock. And,then I move to the sparkling stove.

Again, I am sure I hear small little laughter from that hole in the wall. I refrain from the temptation to chuck my house shoe in that general direction.

I hear laughter from behind me. No, it is not the shrew this time. It is the laughter of a small child. Most often a small child's laughter brings about a joyful emotion upon the heart. But, this laughter was different. This is the laughter you dread hearing. I turn around. And, my two year old has dumped the entire contents of a freshly opened box of baby oatmeal out. And, she is throwing it everywhere! On the counters, in the sink, and on the floor! My reaction... "Now, J- how many times have I told you not to stand on the chair?" I believe my brain to have shut down by this point in resignation. It was just going to be one of those days!

But... the bottle of cough syrup said I'd get sleep... and still the shrew laughs at my ignorance!

The baby awakens again. And, she is not happy. I cannot soothe her. But, her five year old brother can! He begins making faces at her. He dances jigs about her. She laughs heartily. Then, she looks at me in passing- and her laughter abruptly stops. She wails. I think to myself... do I look like Frankentein's monster or something? She pulls at her ears and wails some more. Big brothers antics are no longer working- and are actually making my nerves ruffle a bit. So, I leave the room to go nurse the baby and rock her to sleep again. About 30 minutes later, my ear drum is incapacitated, but the baby is slumbering. I realize I have not seen my children in at least five minutes. I search. It does not take me long to find the rainbow of little people sitting on the kitchen floor. An inward grown escapes me. I forgot to lock the craft door after washing it. I now have two children covered head to toe in marker- And, it's permanent. Where is the oldest child? He sits in a chair at the table pouring his own milk. Just before I can open my mouth to tell him to wait- the milk goes crashing to the floor- the cup flies off of the table slamming it's remaining contents across the countertop and cupboards.

So, it is now noon. There was no breakfast made. Only bananas passed out and cups of milk poured. There was no load of laundry added to the wash until just five minutes ago. And, that shrew is still laughing. I have resorted to serving my children processed food today... something I try to never do. Their chicken nuggets and fries are in the oven. Thankfully, I found them buried in the spare deep freezer downstairs. Their applesauce is in the fridge waiting to be served- and I finally have a minute! How, you ask? Because 20 minutes earlier, when my children got into my sewing notions and my fabric- I broke down. I laughed... out loud- right along with the shrew. Perhaps I had gone nuts. I don't know. But- I laughed. I laughed and I laughed. What else was I to do? Then, I tore some fabric and made three strips. I told the children these are special Indian War Head Dresses. So,they took them and ran... They have been Indians, Pirates, and now it sounds like one is a Princess- the girl of course- and the other two are Ninja's- apparantly protecting the Princess.The baby remains in my lap, snuggled close. I can feel her breath upon my neck, and I smell the sweet scent of baby. The children are laughing- and this time, it is the laughter that brings a joyous emotion to the heart. The oven is about to beep, and the table is prepared. I don't know if I will get as much laundry done as I had hoped. I don't know if my kitchen will get the full clean today as I had hoped. The dishes are done. The table is cleared, and the floor is swept and mopped. My husband will be coming home early from work today, and he has the afternoon planned out for us already. But, that all doesn't seem to matter to me anymore. Not today. Tomorrow is another day. Maybe- just maybe I'll get eight hours of sleep -that bottle of cough syrup can't lie to me twice, can it? Maybe tomorrow I will be refreshed. Tomorrow will begin my newness. And, my home will be more than just a place to reside- but a place where hearts are tied into the ones belonging to the home.
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As I sit here and finish typing- lunch has been served, and the children are quietly reading books. (Yes, I can see them- they are actually looking at books!) - I'm pretty sure I saw the shrew peek out of that hole in the wall. And, if shrews can wink- that's just what she did, and maybe- just maybe that shrew and I have come to an understanding. She must have known something that day.

Oh, and by the way... remember that mysterious chocolate? I found the source. I found a bag of Hershey's Chocolate chips strewn about my three year old's bed. (I shake my head, sigh, and go get the vacuum. I am resigned, but I am reminded of the deep blessings I have- and as I turn on the vacuum, I make a note to self- Make sure to hug each one of those blessings and tell them of my love for them. I then will thank my Heavenly Father for the wonder-filled day that I had.)


Brandy Lynn