The Good Old Days

I'm finding these days that I do not have it all together. Not only that but I can't even put the facade on any more.

I pulled up the old blog today to find that it's been three days since I've even glanced at the computer. There have been lots of things going on worthy of noting. Only problem is that I've been too tired to write about them...too tired to even read about them in the lives of other bloggers.

After having the ironing board out for a week, I finally caught up today. Then Nelson came home and unloaded his suitcase into the hamper and I actually wanted to scream. I will never be caught up.

Every floor cleaned has juice spilled on it hours later. The days I actually decide to cook something nice, no one eats it. There's still a suitcase (I'll be it, emptied) from our trip last weekend on the floor in my bedroom. At the end of the day the person who gets most cranky, impatient, and accident-prone is me.

There are moments, many of them recently, that I can't seem to find that light that I know is at the end of this tunnel. And yet, as per my last entry so many moons ago, I know this is the exhaustion and hormones talking. I know that these days are fleeting. I know a lot of things...I just don't feel it today.

But even on days like today when the emotions take over, the facts are still there. My right bicep is in spasms from holding my sweet, precious Max who laughed at me for the first time today. There is seldom a time when I pick him up that I don't actually say out loud, "I don't know what I did to deserve such a wonderful baby, but I'm sure glad I had you."

This morning for breakfast, I actually made banana pancakes in the shape of Mickey Mouse. The kids noticed them excitedly before they demolished them. I agreed to let Mackenzie spend the night with her cousin as well as take all the kids to my niece's soccer game. This decision yielded excitedly squeals from all three big kids.

This afternoon, as I looked out the window at Aiden and Dawson jumping on the trampoline, I stopped what I was doing and went outside and jumped with them. We jumped so long and so hard that Aiden actually threw up (not so fun but much easier to clean off a trampoline with a hose than get out of a carpet) and then begged me to jump some more.

One day, years from now, when I think back to this time as the “good old days”, I’m going to read this entry to remind myself that although life was precious and good, it was also very hard. Then no matter what is going on at the time, I’ll know that I can get through it. I’ll realize how quickly time goes by. I may even laugh.