The Snow Keeps Falling

I clean in energetic spurts. And to the dismay of my children, I don’t like to clean alone. So this usually means an energy rush on my end, followed by a “calling all the children!” moment, and an instantaneous smashing of all whines and complaints. After a frantic thirty minutes of running here and there, I am pleased. I dismiss the minions, um, I mean kids, to whatever they were previously occupied with, and I sit a moment to rest.

Every once in a while, I get on a longer kick, where all-the-things-must-be-cleaned-at-the-same-time!

…only to turn around 15 minutes later and have dishes in the sink, new towels in the basket to be washed, and what do you know, everyone’s hungry again.

Phyllis Diller wisely said:

And then it hit me.

The snow keeps falling.

In my stage of life, there isn’t a break in the constant down-pouring of the frozen bits of water.

The snow around me falls…

• In clothes that need to be washed.
• In dishes that get used.
• In stomachs that beg to be filled.
• In weeds that fight against being pulled.
• In dust that settles on flat surfaces.
• In toys strewn about.
• In brains that need to be taught.
• In disputes that must be settled.
• In boo-boos that ask to be kissed.
• In imaginations that long to be heard.

The snow keeps falling. Cold and relentless.

Twenty minutes ago, in the midst of a blizzard in the kitchen, I escaped to my room to reflect. My mind was a whirl of thoughts and I couldn’t get them straight. I literally just locked my door, turned on an instrumental Christmas Pandora station, and began browsing our family photos of winters past.

Building Snowmen. Sledding Fast. Making Angels.

I smile. I breath.

I remember the peacefulness that can hug me on those rare 35 degree days with some flurries and a sun that shines brightly in the white sky. For some reason, thinking of it this way seems to settle my soul. The flakes aren’t all bad. Sometimes, they feel more like white powdery pieces of heaven, sent by my loving God.

In my thankfulness, I begin appreciating the other flakes that fall, side by side with the rest.

• The arms that reach up to be hugged.
• The smiles that brighten the dinner table.
• The hands that eagerly help with meals.
• The legs that run in circles.
• The snuggles by a fire.
• The intelligence that’s learning to read.
• The fingers trying to braid my hair.
• The competition of a game well-played.
• The companionship while walking our dog.
• The tears of friendship that are shared.
• The joys.
• The laughter.
• The thrills.

I embrace it all.

One day, when they’re grown, there will be quiet days when the snow doesn’t fall. And I know I’ll miss the cool, individual flakes that line my lashes. The special ones that land on my heart. And the overall joy of a snow fall that brightens my day and makes my life sparkle.

So fall on, snow. And I will raise my head, spread my arms, and enjoy it for all that it is.

Middle of Mommyhood

I've always been a girl with many interests.

I often feel like the dog in Up. "Squirrel!"

Projects seem to be mostly my-style. Work on something, see it to completion, move on to the next.

Need a drama written? Organize a field trip? Take a few pictures?

It is fun. Quick. Over. Next.

The long-haul is where I struggle. The daily. The routine.

Ahh, routine. The word itself makes me twitch.

While on one hand I enjoy settling into a new routine, it eventually becomes old.

I was looking at my kids yesterday, and I realized I have a good 15 more years of doing the same thing as I have been doing for the last 12.

Cooking. Cleaning. Teaching them to spell. Reviewing vocabulary words. Laundry.

On one hand, it seems like, well, like forever.

But on the other hand, it'll fly by.

So I'm happy and sad, excited and mellow, energized and sentimental, all at the same time.

Not a very deep post, but it's just where I am. Right in the middle of mommy-hood. I'm mostly content. Growing in patience and perseverance. Learning to savor the little times and stick-it-out through the hard times.

Now, off to make dinner and fold some towels. Have a great weekend!

My Daily Battle

It's time for me to get real with you.
 

I really hate housework.

I know, I know. No one likes housework. Well, some do, but that's another issue.

But my problem isn't that I don't like housework. It's that I constantly struggle being content while doing, well, housework.

I was asked again this week, "Becky, you do so much! How do you get it all done?" Photography, writing, acting, teaching... the answer is easy. I love doing anything that keeps me away from what I'm supposed to be doing! Which is, namely, housework!

Need a script edited? The dishes can wait. Lee calls and needs something put together for a bid? The laundry sits in baskets. Want the photos uploaded from our recent event together? I'll get right on it... the kitchen floor can be swept later. You posted something really funny about your toddler on facebook? Ok! I'll watch it!

I keep my house in a picked-up state that always borders on the brink of explosion. And when something massive, like VBS or a large birthday party, hits the schedule, it blows up!

It will recover, it will. We have a routine where we all divide and conquer and put everything back in its place.

But here's what I want to master: Contentment while doing dishes. Contentment while folding laundry. Contentment while straightening what I just straightened an hour ago! I want peace that lasts, not just a verse that gets me through the momentary "trial" of LEGOs all over the family room.

Last night while doing dishes, I pretended I was at a spa, and the warm water was like a relaxing soak of bubbles. It's nice having an imagination.

But tonight, instead of straightening up (again) while the kids are sleeping, I edited a script for church and blogged.

The housework will always be there. I'm working on a balance of getting stuff done (which I enjoy) and keeping a well-maintained house. But at the end, when the home is about to go "kabang!" I want to clean with a happy heart.

The same thing I expect out of my kids.

I'm praying for it! And every "cleaning day" I pray, "Lord, get me through this without yelling at my kids and biting everyone's head off." He's faithful to answer.

I just wish it weren't always a fight. Between me and my selfish disdain for the mundane.

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A word of encouragement

My brother and sister-in-law just had their seventh baby, and for the 4 day weekend, my parents have all of their kids. My mom called me this evening.

"Becky, I just want you to know how much I can really appreciate all you and Andi do to keep your houses clean." We laughed at the energy it takes just to keep up with the kids. She then said, "Yeah, if I were doing this every day, I would need a maid!"


I really needed to hear that! This is a challenging time of life. I'm not a big weenie. Thanks, mom! You're the best!

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