Wednesday, September 17, 2008

On the Brink

I am a woman on the brink...of what I'm not sure, but at this very moment I'm leaning toward insanity. I currently have many irons in the fire as some proverbial elders might say and maybe it might not seem like a lot to those of you reading it, but to me it seems momentous. Here’s my list:


We are currently in the throes of packing for a move across town and the realization of our over abundance of belongings has begun to make my head swim. I feel as if I am signing my life away with the infinite amounts of paperwork that accompanies purchasing a home. We know that escrow closes before the end of the month but the date has not yet been confirmed which brings a whole lot of unknowns to be dealt with. Lack of boxes has put our work at a standstill and the hunt for cardboard has left me feeling like an alcoholic Nancy Drew, as I stalk the neighborhood for newly moved in neighbors and frequent the Liquor store.


Numerous times throughout the day I find myself saying, "Get your hands out of your butt" or "Nobody likes hiney hands." As fun as these are to say they are not in vain. Keely is in the midst of potty training, not by my choice, she just refuses to wear clothing or diapers ripping them off as soon as they are put on her, which necessitates the need and the sayings. Thankfully she is doing well, the accidents are few and far between, now if only her hands and butt were.


Speaking of needs, my sleep needs are not being met, four hours of interrupted sleep does not do it for me, two of which were on the kid’s bedroom floor. My sleep, or lack thereof, has left me weepy and irritable. Brian is out of town on business and calls me daily and normally gets the brunt of my emotions. I love to hear from him and miss him terribly but as much as I want him to be having a nice time, my jealousy rears its ugly head. At first I was living vicariously through his dining out and Vegas fun, but I turned a deaf ear after two days of hearing about gourmet cuisine while I ate Taco Bell and cold cereal and trudged through all of the aforementioned crap. What a bad wife! Where's my joy? Most likely it rolled under the Dora bed when the kid's kicked it out of me while lying on the floor at 2 in the morning.


Some commitments I made before we even thought of moving are now due, within days. Have I started? I'll let you guess.

So, there it is, the edge in which I precariously teeter, ramrodded there by all of the above. My mom, who is out trying to help me make sense of my domestic nonsense, has been able to reel me back a few steps. Helping with the kids and allowing me time to nap has clarified my out-of-control feeling to an extent. However, I am hoping that a life line will not be necessary. I believe if I am able to rally myself, this final push through my own personal crisis I will not see myself fall endlessly into a pit of despair but rather realize that I'm on the edge of some type of success. A success that will bring to fruition the dream of a new home that will accommodate our family better; where I can make semi-gourmet non-Taco Bell meals, where children can roam the land, and that our foolish pappy-loving stuff will finally have a rightful place. Maybe just on the other side of this ledge is a daughter who will potty like a big girl and will no longer feels the need to spread her cheeks. I know that over this hurdle that seems to last a lifetime are children who sleep through the night and will no longer need a comforting pat or a mother to threaten them to go to sleep. My prior commitments which seem to be creeping up behind me will only allow for growth of the groups I made them to, as well as myself. Maybe the brink is not such a bad place to be. Granted, I normally like my ground flat with quite a bit of space surrounding it, but you never really see what God has planned for you until you stand on the edge and see what you weren't able to before.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Groceries, God, & Good Sex

On my last trip to the grocery store, I took 3 out of the 5 kids along with me. Vance slept the whole time and Keely and Ryleigh were, miraculously, exceptionally well-behaved. I think God allows a good grocery trip every once in awhile as an encouragement. Anyway, this particular store has a bulk food section where I bribed the girls with candy of their choosing to carry in their very own little plastic bags. My ploy worked!

Upon checking out I ran into an older gentleman, almost literally, who apologized for cutting me off and struck up a conversation regarding my mannerly kids. I'm not sure how the conversation exactly went but the two missing kids came up. The man told me that he too had a house full at one time and then said, "Let me remember how this goes. Are you Catholic?" I replied, "No", thinking I know how this goes. "Are you Mormon?" I kindly said, "No." "Jewish?" "That's a new one. Nope." "Then they would say 'must be a sexy Protestant'." I'm not sure who "they" were but I was in love with "them" and him for for that matter! He completely made me smile the rest of the day and I considered getting several t-shirts made in a variety of colors stating "Protestant Who Likes Sex", to exhibit some humility.

It does strike me as funny how many times Brian and I are asked the Catholic/Mormon question. I guess some people believe it's only if your religion mandates you to have many children that you would ever have more then two or three. We without a doubt know that our children are a great blessing from the Lord, but we don't feel as if God has commanded us to procreate and now we have a job to do, so we continue to pop kids out. Rather, we feel as if something is missing from our family. Yes, you read correctly, I used the present tense. I don't know when we will have another baby or if God will continue to bless us in that manner but I do know there is the desire and the room for more. Our kids feel the same way, Jace would like seven and Brynna, the one who rarely interacts with the little ones except for the occasional pat on the head, said she would like to have more brothers and sisters. Even during those moments where my kids drive me nuts and I think I could be institutionalized, I never question the love I have for my clan or doubt that it could be shown to additional children.

We know that if we didn't have God at the center of this chaotic, noisy, messy and sometimes smelly household we would never manage. Our decision to have a larger-than-most family, is a choice we have made, a choice to not limit the blessings God has offered to give us as long as we are equipped spiritually, physically, and mentally. We have made this choice not because we think we will get a better place in heaven or that the only purpose of sex is to create life, but because we love our kids and couldn't imagine life without them and because the world will one day be better because of them and those that are yet to come. Not to mention, this Protestant likes sex.