This morning wasn't too bad. Tucker, who has been fighting a horrible virus (after it ripped through the rest of the kids earlier this week and all of last week) turned a corner around noon and his previously high 103.5 temperature dropped to a breathe-easier 100.2. Around the same time, I realized I was dealing with a dull headache and discovered I now had a fever. Sigh -- my turn with the virus brought home from TN by Shelby.
At this point, things stayed pretty even keel. We kept working through finalizing some of Shelby's writings and began kneading our bread. I saw Scott out the door for his double shift and spent some time reading books with Elyas and Abigail. I encouraged Tucker as he practiced his piano and enjoyed listening to Isabelle's "bouncy" notes for her "Chopsticks" as I shaped the bread. I supervised massive Lego surgery as Keats and Aidan customized several Lego men into their favorite, weird combinations. (Of course, my personal desire is to keep each of these men perfectly put together, just as they came out of the box. However, Keats and Aidan are both facinated with the idea of creating their own versions of Dr. Frankenstein's monster by assembling various body parts. Sometimes, homeschooling has really strange consequences.)
Pulling the bread out of the oven went as planned, the documentary on General Howe was fascinating, and Shelby was wrapping up her piano when the day took a serious downhill turn. I had noticed that the oven knob was not centered on Bake as I pulled the bread out. Rather, it was haphazardly resting between Bake and Off. I made a mental note to chat with Shelby again about being more careful when doing tasks, and went back to reading. When Shelby went to dump the bread out of the pans a few minutes later we learned that those beautifully shaped loaves concealed a lurking secret of gooey, unbaked madness underneath. Apparently, having the knob half-way results in half-way baking. We threw the loaves back in, hoping to end up with something we could use for croutons and I contacted the individual who had ordered 3 loaves of the bread to let him know that it wasn't going to happen today.
Frustrated already, I wasn't thrilled to find Keats and Aidan surrounded by even more little Lego pieces everywhere. I gave instructions to please, please, please pick up every teeny, tiny piece and headed upstairs to put a few clothes away.
Then I get the call from the stairs. "Mom - Abigail had an accident!" While trying desperately to get the baby-gate open to access an upstairs bathroom, Abigail just didn't make it. And just why didn't anyone help their sister get through the gate? "We thought she was kidding, mom." Ggggrrrrr.
I cleaned the carpet while Shelby bathed Abigail, Isabelle read to Elyas and Dawson supervised twins getting jammied. Ready to give up on our day, I went to order pizza. Now, we just don't order pizza anymore. We make it or we go without because the expense equates to an hour of Scott's working time. But I was ready for something to be easy. Of course, the kids favorite pizza place had web issues, so after several frustrating attempts to order, I went to another company and had dinner on its way within moments.
And then, the day changed again. The kids, having heard I had ordered pizza, all went to get their spending envelopes. Each of them has an envelope marked "Choice Giving" in which they save part of their allowance in order to have money to do things for others. (Scott and I learned over the years that actually budgeting for acts of kindness ensured we could do little things and we have worked hard to teach the kids this idea as well.) They all emptied their envelopes and presented me with their gift: Pizza Money so we didn't use up daddy's time.
I know that only through adversity do you get stronger and that only by working with a lemon can you make lemonade. What I didn't realize is you must have an everything is suddenly going wrong afternoon to give your kids the chance to shine.
Thanks for the dinner, gang. It was delicious.
At this point, things stayed pretty even keel. We kept working through finalizing some of Shelby's writings and began kneading our bread. I saw Scott out the door for his double shift and spent some time reading books with Elyas and Abigail. I encouraged Tucker as he practiced his piano and enjoyed listening to Isabelle's "bouncy" notes for her "Chopsticks" as I shaped the bread. I supervised massive Lego surgery as Keats and Aidan customized several Lego men into their favorite, weird combinations. (Of course, my personal desire is to keep each of these men perfectly put together, just as they came out of the box. However, Keats and Aidan are both facinated with the idea of creating their own versions of Dr. Frankenstein's monster by assembling various body parts. Sometimes, homeschooling has really strange consequences.)
Pulling the bread out of the oven went as planned, the documentary on General Howe was fascinating, and Shelby was wrapping up her piano when the day took a serious downhill turn. I had noticed that the oven knob was not centered on Bake as I pulled the bread out. Rather, it was haphazardly resting between Bake and Off. I made a mental note to chat with Shelby again about being more careful when doing tasks, and went back to reading. When Shelby went to dump the bread out of the pans a few minutes later we learned that those beautifully shaped loaves concealed a lurking secret of gooey, unbaked madness underneath. Apparently, having the knob half-way results in half-way baking. We threw the loaves back in, hoping to end up with something we could use for croutons and I contacted the individual who had ordered 3 loaves of the bread to let him know that it wasn't going to happen today.
Frustrated already, I wasn't thrilled to find Keats and Aidan surrounded by even more little Lego pieces everywhere. I gave instructions to please, please, please pick up every teeny, tiny piece and headed upstairs to put a few clothes away.
Then I get the call from the stairs. "Mom - Abigail had an accident!" While trying desperately to get the baby-gate open to access an upstairs bathroom, Abigail just didn't make it. And just why didn't anyone help their sister get through the gate? "We thought she was kidding, mom." Ggggrrrrr.
I cleaned the carpet while Shelby bathed Abigail, Isabelle read to Elyas and Dawson supervised twins getting jammied. Ready to give up on our day, I went to order pizza. Now, we just don't order pizza anymore. We make it or we go without because the expense equates to an hour of Scott's working time. But I was ready for something to be easy. Of course, the kids favorite pizza place had web issues, so after several frustrating attempts to order, I went to another company and had dinner on its way within moments.
And then, the day changed again. The kids, having heard I had ordered pizza, all went to get their spending envelopes. Each of them has an envelope marked "Choice Giving" in which they save part of their allowance in order to have money to do things for others. (Scott and I learned over the years that actually budgeting for acts of kindness ensured we could do little things and we have worked hard to teach the kids this idea as well.) They all emptied their envelopes and presented me with their gift: Pizza Money so we didn't use up daddy's time.
I know that only through adversity do you get stronger and that only by working with a lemon can you make lemonade. What I didn't realize is you must have an everything is suddenly going wrong afternoon to give your kids the chance to shine.
Thanks for the dinner, gang. It was delicious.
2 comments:
that is wonderful! I wish I was half as good a mom that you are, I am working on it! I wish my boys got a along better. They are like magnets they either stick together one minute or retract the next. I have not had a very good day either, but maybe it will get better
Your blog is so inspiring, your family is great and I love you guys! I really miss having you at church, but I know its for good that you left. Thanks for posting on this, because it reminds me of the older days when I could come over and hang out with everyone.
Love,
Lizzy
Post a Comment