- I ignored the only alarm set in the house to get us to church on time, as did everyone else. And since, well....five kids = way too long since last shower....ahem....showering wasn't optional for me, and thus we were doomed to Sunday school tardiness.
- I attempted to get closer to the open window in our bathroom while straightening my hair because, well...five-month-old = hormones still raging = hot flashes = thought I was gonna pass out and die....and in the process of taking the hair straightener with me, I unknowingly allowed the cord to catch on my nearly-full mug of coffee, which it dumped all over our bathroom counter and everything on it. Fear not...I saved both my phone and the love notes the 6-yr-old had left me. As for everything else, well....some people pay good money to have things smell so coffeehouse-esque, right?
- The baby, who has the most uncanny ability to have a blow out diaper every single Sunday morning no matter what we do (waiting to put on church clothes until the last minute doesn't work, she'll just wait, too) actually didn't fill her britches. Instead, she fell asleep on the 5-minute drive from Walmart to church (we grocery shop during Sunday school, what a date, huh?) so we left her in her carseat to encourage the nap. Alas, she woke up the second we stepped into church. All was well, though, because she was more than happy to chill in said carseat and quietly, contentedly play. When it came time for the homily, I had the 10-yr-old preemptively take her out so she wouldn't be a disruption, and as soon as she had her, we exchanged the, "oh, no, that smell can't mean anything good" look. Before dashing for the bathroom, I did a check of her clothes to make sure of no leakage, grabbed the wipes and a diaper and took off. What am I, a ROOKIE???? Seriously, I should know better. Yes, folks, by the time I got there, blow out was an understatement. *Sigh* *Laugh at self* *Accept and get creative* Fortunately, it somehow missed all but a tiny spot on her onesie, attacking instead her skirt and tights, so after much cleaning, rinsing, wiping, whimpering (me), and giving of gummy smiles (her), we thankfully didn't have to re-enter church with her completely naked...just mostly. Of course, naturally we didn't have the back-up church outfit packed like we've started doing (did I mention this is a thing?) because, well, that whole alarm clock thing, and the backup outfits I usually keep in the diaper bag are ones I've been meaning to switch out because they no longer fit. So, on with the socks and let the baby rock the "my parents take me to church in a onesie and socks" look...in January. Yep, rookie mistake. Rookie.
On the other hand, this happened, too:
- The almost-12-yr-old helped the very particular and volatile 6-yr-old peacefully pick out a very normal-ish outfit to wear to church and thanks to big sister's suggestion of the addition of a scarf that was promptly discarded as soon as we got there, no one got huffy. This is a rare Sunday, folks.
- The 11-yr-old happily switched from almost getting to hold the baby during Mass (a prize often fought over by 6 people!) to snuggling the previously noted, volatile 6-yr-old who got dumped from my lap so I could make my diaper dash, and they were both happy about it.
- The 8-yr-old served during Mass and didn't pick her nose once, use the tassles on her belt once as characters in some amazing story, or skip very much at all from place to place. We've come so far!
- Shawn picked up a lot of unmentioned pieces along the way in this story and still loves me, even though I spewed a whole lot of crazy all over this morning, and if I'm lucky even still likes me. We managed to recover from the crazy and have a fun time on our date to Walmart. Plus the baby was super cute, sitting up all big and steady in the cart all by herself, back when she was still wearing the aforementioned church clothes.
- The Mass readings were spot on and gave me a general sense of peace about some ongoing worries.
- We got to go out to lunch with our incredible parish priest and some good friends, a good time was had by all, and children mostly behaved very well.
- I'm actually making a priority of getting this written right now, which is an ongoing goal and hasn't happened in over a year, because the baby has recently figured out how to self entertain for bits at a time, the next two are enjoying(ish) each other's company as they play some kind of house game--or at least amicably arguing over who's going to be who, and the two eldest (with the help of Daddy) are rearranging their room after getting to re-paint it this weekend (a Christmas present that actually happened just over a month out, not bad!).
So, why after over a year is this what I finally choose to write about? Because when I set out on the endeavor to be a blogger, not just "have a blog" that never gets written, I intended it to be about the every day, the ordinary, the comical, the thoughtful....all of it. In little snatches, and occasional bigger glimpses. In joy and frustration. In mom moments, in daughter-of-God moments, in camp director moments, in homeschool moments...in whatever I wanted. Instead, I do it so rarely that it feels daunting and like whatever I say has to be amazing. It has to explain the depth of the MEANING of living the never rather than the LIVING of living the never. And I want to just write. To have fun penning the story of our LIVING.
It doesn't hurt that, as you can see from this post, I'm, well....wordy. Quite wordy. As so it may have come to pass that people who know me well have suggested that several of my Facebook statuses could BE blog posts, and so maybe I should just do that when those moments strike....instead of writing "blog posts" that are more like epic sagas. We can all chase foolish dreams, right?
I'm grateful for those people, and for their nudges to make this a thing. Now I can say I've written at least one post about LIVING the never. Next time maybe I'll even be succinct.
Peace,
Anne
PS, if you haven't seen the movie that came out last year about Alexander, you really should. It's super cute, hilariously on point about the trials that can come up while also hilariously exaggerating a tad, and it speaks a beautiful message about family holding it all together. Like them, I'd live all the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days if I get to keep living them with my tribe. Because, well, mine's the best.
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