I know it's proper to put your best self forward for people to see, especially in the blog world, but can I just be real for a minute?
My house is absolutely trashed. Don't even try to make me feel better by telling me "but you're moving; it's okay". No it's not. It's gross. The sink...umm...make that sinkS are overflowing with dishes. The floor was swept two days ago, but could desperately use another sweeping and honestly I can't even remember the last time it was mopped.
There are toys and clothes and chaos strewn everywhere. Probably a few old apple cores too, thanks to Dee's bad habit of just tossing them aside when he's done eating his green apples. Not a single laundry basket is full, but I think that's probably because the clothes never made it into the basket in the first place, NOT because of my stellar laundering habits.
My to-do list is overflowing. Strike that. I have so much to do I don't even want to write it down. So as of this moment, there is no literal to-do list. Just the one in my very muddled, overflowing brain.
As I type this I hear Jeigh screaming dramatically at the top of her lungs. I'm pretty sure Dee just hit her with a swimming flipper. Yep. That was the weapon of choice this time. She is now crying for "MAMA!" at the top of her lungs and I imagine the neighbors are once again thinking "Is now the time I call CPS?" Oh, the crying stopped. Looks like Jeigh might live. Hooray!
And it's awfully quiet now...I wonder where Elle is. Are the bathroom doors closed? I sure hope so.
Hmm, let's see what else I can be real about. Oh yeah, I filled out my fat pants quite nicely today. And when I say nicely...I think you know what I mean. That's okay. I think I have a few chocolate-covered raisins hiding in the pantry somewhere to ease my suffering.
I miss my husband a lot, but honestly I'm getting rather irritated hearing him say over the phone how bored he is and how quiet it is without us. I wonder what that's like. Sounds nice.
So, now that I've been real, and sometimes it is all too real...Can I be real in another way?
This morning I woke up to the sounds of Dee quietly "reading" to himself while he sat in his room waiting for the rest of us to wake up. I rolled over to the sounds of Jeigh rustling around in the bed beside me. I fell asleep again and woke up again to the sight of Dee and Jeigh laying next to me, hugging each other and telling each other how much they loved each other and what good brother and sister they were. I laid there hoping they didn't see me awake, just watching and hoping that friendship lasts through the ages.
I got up to the sounds of Elle calling from her crib. When I lifted her out of her bed, she curled up in my arms and snuggled in. As soon as I changed her and set her down she got one of her baby dolls and tenderly cradled it.
We sat and watched Dee and Jeigh play dress-up for a while. Their little imaginations swept them far from the small bedroom we were in. Jeigh sang e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g and I feel sure she is going to be an Opera star someday.
Dee walked around in swimming flippers most of the morning (yes, the very same ones that were used for violence) and pretended he was a penguin, a dragon, an explorer. One day, his curious nature will lead him far from me.
I walked upstairs when it was "too quiet" and watched Elle from hiding as she played with a little farm set with a big, bright blue, dress-up hat tilted on her head. She played in comfortable silence, gently moving her toys, tender and sweet, content to be playing alone. What will this little old soul become one day? A master gardener/farmer? A careful and attentive nurse? A surgeon? A writer? A sweet and loving little mother?
Sure, my house is a disaster. My schedule is a war-zone. My pant-size is a national crisis. But I am going to forget all that and just enjoy what I am seeing this morning. My children. While they are still children.